


As Fickle as a Rose.

by queenahx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Archangels, Asylum, Bodily Harm, Demons, End Verse, Episode: s05e03 Free to Be You and Me, Episode: s05e04 The End, Episode: s05e08 Changing Channels, F/M, Flashbacks, Garden of Eden, Gen, Heaven, Hell, Holy Fire, Master/Slave, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Russia, Season/Series 05, Torture, True Vessels, Vessels, Whipping, holy oil, mentions of Castiel, mentions of adam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-15 15:26:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7227949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenahx/pseuds/queenahx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ambriel was loved by her brother, Lucifer, the most. He was her guide in the Garden, until he convinces to join in his rebellion; which leads them to go to Hell and back. Literally.</p><p>Rated E for the explicit torture scenes (like, really).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Garden

_“Your head is humming,_  
_and it won’t go –_  
_In case you didn’t know_  
_your piper’s calling you to join him._  
_Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow?_  
_And did you know,_  
_your stairway lies on the whispering wind.”  
Stairway to Heaven, Led Zeppelin_

* * *

 

Two people were standing in a vast open space. The ground beneath them was a luxurious, poisonous green. Around them were towering trees, which contained colourful fruits of all shapes and sizes; including rounded apples, hourglass pears, crescent shaped bananas and infinite oval kiwis. The whole landscape had a stigma of pure creation, like everything was some immaculate and intricate design.

One of the beings took the form of a tall man with broad shoulders and confident attire. He had powerful blue eyes that matched the colour of the skies above. They danced in the light of the sun that he created – The Morningstar. His hair was a luscious chestnut brown, which drawled smoothly past his jaw, barely touching his shoulders. This was Heaven’s most beautiful angel with his wonderful white wings hanging behind him. Even as they were relaxed, they were still bold and matched him perfectly.

The other was a shorter being, more humbled in her size. It was almost like she was his polar opposite, with her narrow shoulders and slim body. But her glassy silver eyes were almost on par with his; and despite them not being as colourful, they still sparkled as they absorbed the surroundings. They were filled with glimmer and wonder as she scanned the miraculous place. Her eyes contrasted her light brown hair that flowed way past her shoulder blades, and almost swung at her hips. She was undeniably beautiful, but nothing could compare her to her elder sibling. They sauntered around the Garden with elegance whilst their wings bobbed slightly behind them as they combed the floor with the tips.

“Lucifer,” she piped up, her voice strong and steady.

“Mhm?” he mused, his thoughts lingering.

“How many feathers does a bird possess?” she asked, watching a raven soar gleefully above them. Lucifer’s lips tweaked at his sister’s usual antics.

“All birds vary,” he replied. “Each containing a different number of feathers of different shapes and sizes. It’s what makes them unique; each feather designed to make them fly. One could say the number of a bird’s feathers is countless, just like a head full of hair. Some fall, and not all replenish.”

“How about a rough estimate?” she teased softly, but her eyes were swimming with curiosity. His lip curled at her jest and he seemed to take her seriously.

“About seven thousand,” he replied coolly. “Unless you’d like to count for yourself.”

She gasped in surprised, looking moderately offended that he even suggested that idea.

“That’s mean, Luci. You need to ask them for permission first.”

Lucifer sighed.

“Alright, alright. Ask that raven over there,” he pointed to an obsidian coloured raven sitting in a marble water fountain, splashing about happily.

“Don’t point, Luci,” she commented, bouncing past him and almost knocking him to the floor. “It’s rude to point.”

She skipped along the brisk grass on her way to the fountain, whilst Lucifer followed her more slowly. The bird squawked merrily to greet them.

“Hello,” Ambriel stated. “How fair’s you today?”

The bird flapped its wings in excitement.

“I don’t speak bird,” scowled Lucifer.

“That’s because you didn’t learn to,” she replied gently. “Carry on,” she said to the raven. The raven continued to squawk at her and she nodded to follow the conversation. After a while, Lucifer coughed impatiently and raised an eyebrow at his sister.

“Didn’t you wish to know the number of feathers?”

She inwardly sighed, somewhat disappointed that she was forced to cut her conversation short. She then proceeded to ask the raven.

“Seven thousand, five hundred and eight,” the raven replied in a graceful voice. Ambriel thanked the bird and it flew off into the sky. Lucifer appeared awestruck.

“It can talk?” he asked, dumbfounded. Ambriel chuckled.

“All animals can talk to angels if they desire,” she answered simply. Lucifer tilted his head, somewhat confused.

“Then why did you speak… bird?”

“They prefer their own languages. It’s much more difficult for them to speak how we speak, compared to us.”

And in that moment, their Father descended downwards into the Garden, greeting them both in turn. He looked well and truly timeless. He had crisp short pecan-coloured hair that was fluffy on top and sides. It was slightly ruffled by the slight breeze around them. His eyes were deep and wide; with a colour of sea green reflecting off the sky like a mirror. His face was impassive as he greeted his two children.

“Lucifer,” he spoke softly in a modulated tone. “Ambriel.”

“Father,” they replied respectfully.

He tilted his head in a slight angle, to give the impression he was confused. (Unknowingly, this was the one trait that angels had inherited from their father.)

“You both know that the Garden is no longer free to roam. Why are you here?”

Ambriel seemed either too embarrassed or too ashamed to speak, so Lucifer replied for her.

“Father, Ambriel was just curious about a particular raven,” he said, his voice light and honest. After all, how could he lie to his father?

Extraordinarily, a small smile quirked upon their father’s face.

“Is that so? Pray, do tell Ambriel.”

So Ambriel told him of the wings, and her father didn’t seem disappointed that they breached the Garden’s walls. Instead, he was amused, as evident by his curled lip and delighted face. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder and said, “Thank you for observing my creation and for seeing its true beauty.”

With that, he vanished from the Garden, leaving both Ambriel and Lucifer weirdly isolated. They looked at each other, with their foreheads scowling in clear confusion. Eventually, Ambriel shrugged it off and flew away to find Gabriel – leaving Lucifer with his thoughts.

*****

One of the earliest memories that Ambriel had was also one of her fondest. When the first humans came about – Adam and Lilith – she recalled heeding them, memorising every detail of them. They intrigued her in the way that they cared for each other, and vaguely mirrored her and the rest of her siblings – especially Lucifer. Only this seemed beyond loving, it was… passionate.

And for that, she was envious. She secretly wished for someone to hold her tight and care for her as much as Adam did to Lilith. She then felt a vast, empty piece inside of her go missing – one that she had never noticed before. It was strange and overwhelming. She felt the sacredness creep up on her from behind, and it was so powerful that it engulfed her in a blanket of pure and utter panic. And then came the searing, hot rage of anger towards her father. How could he forget to give her something so precious and desirable? After all, was she not one of his most loved – closely following Lucifer? Why do these humans deserve such compassion and being able to feel, when she only felt a shard of her missing? Why did her existence have to be so cruel to ignore one of the most important and treasured characteristics a human has? Admittedly, she felt a sense of doubt overcome her about her father’s inventions. Was she and the rest of the angels an experiment gone wrong? But surely the leviathans were the mistake and not them?

She had thousands of questions constantly whirling around her mind, each one making her lose faith. If angels are meant to be perfect, then why are they flawed in every sense of the term?

 _But this is wrong,_ she thought to herself. _Why am I questioning my father? He obviously did this for a reason._

 _Ah, but did he?_ A small piece replied in a malicious tone. _Perhaps it’s the humans who’re flawed; which is why they feel such vulnerable things._

Ultimately, she decided that humans were the weak ones; she was privileged to not have an ounce of their inklings. However, she did not jump to that conclusion all by herself.

She was wandering loosely in Heaven – it’s not all golden gates and pearl streets up there, you know. She happened to be on freshly mown, malachite green grass. She was swift and light in her movements as the light blue sky danced around her intricately. The soft wind blew through her opened hands and stretched out fingers. She enjoyed the crispness of the air, and even more so when it picked up when Lucifer arrived.

“Why did you call, sister?” he asked, his voice almost shattering the wind’s magic spell.

“I am struggling, my dear brother,” she admitted.

“Oh?” he hid his smirk at this revelation. “How so?”

Ambriel almost shrugged, suddenly finding it impossible to place her feelings into words.

“I feel… unfulfilled. And angry. I feel like – the humans have something we don’t and I just have this colossal emptiness inside, like I’m missing a piece of a puzzle.”

Lucifer comprehended exactly what she was saying.

“You wish to have free-will,” he stated. It was not a question, but she still nodded meekly in reply. “I understand. I feel trapped by the hopelessness within me. I wish to do what I please, and yet I find myself unable to do so.”

“But what of emotions? Brother, I wish to feel how _they_ feel.”

Lucifer snorted in disgust.

“How the humans feel? Emotions are what make them weak, little sister. Never forget it. Our lack of ability to feel is what makes us better than them; more worthy of father’s love. And yet, we fall short of his most desirable creations. Why is it he favours them more than us? I love our father and so do you. So why doesn't he pay us the same respect?”

They glided gracefully as they walked along the grassy path, the power of Lucifer’s words still pounded throughout Ambriel’s mind loudly.

“Is that why you argued with Michael?” she asked finally. She spotted them earlier in Heaven, but it was hard not to as they were very raucous. Lucifer then sighed as he looked longingly at a rose on the ground, wishing to grasp it. Instead, the crimson red gleamed in his eyes; consuming them whole.

“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” he replied softly, as though his words contained no weight. “Michael was adamant for me to bow down to the humans. But how can I, when they are so unworthy? Father is becoming more insistent, and soon we’ll have nowhere to hide.”

“We?” Ambriel darted, almost scolded by his words. Lucifer smirked at her reaction.

“Of course,” he followed coolly. “Come now, Ambriel; you told me mere minutes ago that you are willing to disobey father in order to experience free-will. We’re in the same situation here. Let me help you.”

Her eyes flashed red, the same shade of the rose.

“I can tell father about your blatant disobedience!” she spat angrily. He quirked an eyebrow.

“And what if I tell him of your misfortunate situation? Who’s he more likely to believe, his most beloved and trusted – or… you. An angel simply used for disposal.”

The red faded from her grey eyes and were replaced with coldness equal to a winter’s frost.

“That’s not true.”

“I do not lie, Ambriel. And you will do well to remember that. You are currently stranded, but I can help you be free. And all you need to do is to follow my lead.”

There was a long pause, and within that time a single leaf dropped from the tree behind them and the sun became overcast by clouds. The atmosphere dropped several degrees to the extent she felt like she was almost shivering.

“Okay,” she said after a while. Her voice was low and mellow. “I accept,” she practically whispered. Lucifer smiled and brought two fingers to her forehead as a soothing surge overcame her. And in a split second, it came as quickly as it went.

“You’re mine, Ambriel. In every sense of the term.”


	2. War is Over (if you want it)

_Oh, Lord, forgive my weary hands_  
_And what they may do._  
_I'll carry out his evil plans_  
_If he wants me to.  
Kill for You - Skylar Grey ft Eminem_

* * *

 

The man with pecan coloured hair stood in front of his angel garrison, which only consisted of the archangels. He observed his dwindling creations. There used to be many more before his sister tried to ruin yet _another_ world. So, he peered down upon his three archangels: Michael, Raphael and Gabriel. He noted that they looked lost without their brother and sister, but they obviously knew better than to dwell upon it. Their eyes looked dutifully upon him, as if waiting for a command to carry out some wearisome task – but what came out of his mouth was not what they were expecting.

“We need to stop Lucifer.”

They scowled simultaneously and tilted their heads at the same angle.

“Father,” Gabriel spoke first. “What can Lucifer possibly do in a few hours after roasting his brother?”

Michael gave Gabe a very pointed glare.

“He didn’t _roast_ me. We merely discussed our indifferences.”

“Mike, he literally told you to kiss the some tree bark and lady bird dung. If that’s not roasting, I don’t know what is.”

“Enough,” their father said and the bickering subdued immediately. “It relates to Michael and Lucifer’s dispute, however I fear that this runs deeper than we all expected it to. I’m afraid that Lucifer has been corrupted by the Mark.”

They gasped in unison.

“But father -” Michael started. God raised his hand and Michael restrained all speech.

“I’m afraid our dear Ambriel is following him on this slippery slope. This shows that everyone can and will be affected by its evil nature; which is why I command all of you to stay far away from the two of them. It is infectious with it seeping through the atmosphere. Raphael and Gabriel, I need you both to take charge of their garrisons. It’s not safe with them being in charge. They might just cause a full revolt when prompted.”

“Father, we appreciate your protection – however the Mark only corrupts those who are already thinking about abandoning us in the first place,” replied Michael.

“I know,” God replied grimly. “Lucifer has been questioning humans ever since they were first created. As for Ambriel… I’ve had no clear indication of her disloyalty until now. Which only means one thing – her loyalty remains with Lucifer.”

X

That day, a storm brewed for the first time over the Garden of Eden. The clouds were overcast; dark grey in nature and thunder surrounding in the distance. Adam and Lilith were afraid; they cowered lowly underneath a tree. Adam, with his defined sparkling blue eyes and ruffled brown hair, stared patently out upon the storm. Lilith, with her platinum light blonde hair that would give Lucius Malfoy a run for his money, and her pale blue eyes that were almost grey in colour. She glanced briefly at her significant other and pondered at the flashing clouds.

“What did we do to deserve this?” whispered Adam, his voice hoarse and eyes widened in fear.

“I do not know, my love,” replied Lilith, her voice soothing. She was less frightened by the shear ferocity of the storm, but her eyes were still wide with apprehension. She knew their Lord would calm the storm eventually. But this fickle faith was a force to not be reckoned – one caused by an evil being in the making.

X

Heaven’s most beautiful – and formally most loyal – stood proud at the top of a grassy hilltop. The ground around them was littered with ruby red roses. Lucifer glanced at the striking creations, the only ones that his father would let him design. He picked one carefully from the hallowed ground and felt the delicate petals of the rose. He turned to face his sister, holding the rose in his hand. It piqued her interest immediately as she admired its beauty. He then crushed it with his hand and she saw the life of it leave the rose.

“You’re as fickle as a rose, Ambriel. You will do well to remember that.”

Her eyes diverted from the rose and onto the floor. He took his hand and grasped her jaw tightly and forced her eyes to meet his. They consumed her, as he marked his territory – breaking her down so that she was crumbling.

Mercifully, he broke the eye contact and as soon as he did, Michael appeared at the top of the hill, unwittingly trampling upon the precious roses.

“Brother,” Lucifer greeted, even though his voice was trickling with spite and venom. “What business do you have here?”

“Father wanted me to talk to you. Both of you,” his green eyes flickered in Ambriel’s direction, who seemed to be avoiding his gaze.

“Fine, what is it?” Lucifer replied impatiently.

“He asks you to stand down.”

Lucifer laughed maliciously.

“Why should I listen to what He says? Why should I listen to what anyone says? He is the reason why I became this way in the first place. If He hadn’t given me the Mark -”

“If He hadn’t given you the Mark, nothing would’ve changed,” Michael carried on calmly. “The Mark only intensifies your feelings, it doesn’t create them. We would be in exactly the same situation if you didn’t possess the Mark. You cannot change what’s already happened, Lucifer. But you can still mould the future to your own will. You don’t have to go through with this and you know it.”

There was an elm tree nearby, with green leaves. The green was bright compared to the dark and flashing sky. Then, a single bolt of lightning hit this tree and it became alive with electricity running through the coarse bark. As quickly as it came, it vanished – the tree seemingly untouched apart from one singular leaf departing from its branch and flowing onto the floor. Lucifer nor Michael paid attention to the tree, yet Ambriel could still see the flash of light appear in her eye.

“But I do, brother,” Lucifer replied eventually. He seemed somewhat sad to admit this fact. “Father wishes for us to bow down to them, and yet they are flawed creatures – their instinct is to panic; to run. They rely on us, brother. And I am no servant to any man, and nor should you be.”

“We serve our father,” Michael insisted, his voice filled with desperation. “By serving him, we must serve them! Perhaps they cannot do the things that we do, but in the future they will find ways to advance. They may seem weak and insignificant – but one day, a human will be of use to you.”

Lucifer proceeded to guffaw in Michael’s face.

“Oh brother, now I pity you. You were always the optimistic one. But I will not bow down to any man or human, so you can go tell father his attempts are futile. I will never submit to those abortions!”

Michael looked downhearted and he sighed.

“I loved you, Lucifer. But you have changed. Rebel if you want, but you can never come back. You’re also taking Ambriel with you, Hell knows you’ve corrupted her – just as you corrupt everything else.”

With that, Michael flew back to retreat to their father.

“Blade out, Sweetheart,” Lucifer said to Ambriel. “We’re not going down without a fight.”

She nodded, and pulled out her archangel blade swiftly.

Their eyes widened as the skies above them cleared of the stormy weather as it parted for tens of angels, flying towards the exact spot that they were standing in. The siblings stood back to back, ready to attack when they landed.

The angels landed gracefully, one after the next.

“Do not make us do this, brother,” one of them spoke.

“No one makes us do anything,” Lucifer growled in reply, lunging forwards and piercing the angel. The angel emitted a shrill scream, which was drowned out by the surge of attacking angels. Swords clanged and slashed as all the angels sliced away. But they were not a match for the prowess of Ambriel, using all her might to fight for her Master. Lucifer fought proudly – how could he not? Heaven’s most beautiful turned into Heaven’s most wanted. They fought well into the night, as each angel fell after being struck with the ferocity of a sword. They did not stop, and nor did they want to when the price was death. Ambriel has taken a blow to her right wing and shoulder, but nothing could shake her stark loyalty which was so rare to see among Heaven these days. Lucifer, on the other hand, was among the first soldiers of Heaven to have been created – and his abilities outshone the rest; he did not gain a scratch as he moved wistfully through the air and conducted the sword much like an orchestra.

When the last angel stood, the LORD above said enough. He descended from the skies and met his two children, both fierce and daunting in their stance.

“I gave you your chances, Lucifer,” his voice said, filled to the brim with disappointment. “But now… this,” He gestured to the floor that was littered with dead angels, including one in particular whose future vessel would wear a certain trench coat.

“Father, I do not want any more of your chances. I despise these… _things._ I will not bow down to them.”

“Very well,” their father replied coldly. “And I assume Ambriel feels the same?”

“These humans are different to us, worse than us. They will murder, they are impure. They are lesser than us, and I will certainly not bow to them.”

Their father was disenchanted to say the least. After all, how can an angel such as her observe humans with such desire to hate them so quickly? He then realised Lucifer was the problem and the answer to this question.

“Lucifer and Ambriel,” He spoke with his Godly voice. “I hereby banish you both from Heaven, until you realise your mistakes and give these humans the compassion that they deserve.”

And it was done.

The grassy hill collapsed underneath their feet, just like an infinite trap door.

They were falling… falling…

And their father who abandoned them watched from above, sighing sadly and proceeded to restore all of those who were dead.


	3. Lilith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter contains torture which may be distressing if you've suffered from child loss or you just don't particularly like torture scenes. Feel free to skip this chapter if you wish. Also contains sexual assault which is basically rape.

_I'm gonna make you,_  
_Shake you,_  
_Take you._  
_I'm gonna be the one who breaks you.  
2 X 4 - Metallica_

* * *

 

It was their first day of banishment, and they were in pain. Ambriel was aching all over, with cramps spreading across her shoulders and onto her back – which is how she landed. A sharp pain shot through her leg and she realised that she – a fucking angel – broke her leg. She broke her leg!

 _This is magnificent,_ she thought bitterly. _Especially as I’m now cut off from Heaven._

However, her fallen brother wasn’t in such good shape either; it appeared that he had a fractured rib and a break in his wing – Ambriel didn’t even know that was possible. Surely there are no bones in your wing? But it appeared true, unfortunately for Lucifer.

And that’s when the penny dropped. Of course their _father_ would’ve caused this to them. As where there is health, there is sickness and where there’s sickness, there is pain.

Oh the pain…

Ambriel grabbed the ground helplessly as the aching overcame her body, leaving her motionless.

“He will pay for this,” Lucifer said, his teeth clenched tightly together. “Mark my works, he will pay for all he’s done…”

“That’s all very well, brother, but please tell me how do we progress from here? We are in unknown lands, unable to crawl, let alone walk. But I dare say I shall be impressed if you manage to crawl your way back to Heaven.”

“Oh Ambriel, you’re the broken bone in my wing, you pain me so. Help me.”

Ambriel let out a belt of raucous laughter.

“No can do, brother mine. My leg is well and truly fucked beyond measure. I can’t move.”

“Sister, what use are you?” he groaned as he attempted to heal himself.

“Excuse me, but I helped fight all of our younger brothers and sisters, AND I got cast out of Heaven with you. I deserve an award.”

“Yeah, an award for the world’s worst sister.”

“Pfft. Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

Lucifer soon used as little grace as he could to fix his wing, which was slowly turning from its brilliant white to a lifeless grey. He was then successfully able to stand as his rib began to mend ever so slowly. The aching in Ambriel’s bones started to vanish also, as it became duller every minute. However, her leg still had a long way to go, and so Lucifer reluctantly helped her mend it.

After all the wounds were eventually healed, they found themselves for the first time in their existence to have no tasks to be done, or orders to give. For now, their purpose was nothing; and nothing is what they’ll do. Just the rest of time doing – nothing.

“We need a plan,” Lucifer said, as they watched the sun vanish in streaks of pearl and gold.

“Tomorrow, perhaps,” Ambriel replied. “Today has been eventful enough, and we need to rest.”

Rest seemed such a foreign concept to them now.

Lucifer silently agreed as they admired the sun setting over the horizon from Earth’s perspective.

Being banished wasn’t that bad, really…

X

After a blissful, silent night the sun rose. The second day of banishment began with birds twittering away in the grand trees above them, singing away happily to one another. It was strangely peaceful here on Earth, despite the knowledge that humans would later ruin its true beauty.

“We need to prove to Father that He’s wrong about the humans,” Lucifer concluded.

“That’s easier said than done, they are in the Garden -”

“Which is protected by Gadreel,” Lucifer finished calmly. “Gadreel will be swayed easily, my sister, as he is easily… persuaded.”

“How so?”

“Well, all I need to do is bring out the inner demon in them – so to speak.”

“In whom, may I ask?”

Lucifer seemed to think about this in depth, as there was an intense pregnant pause.

“Lilith. She will be the first, and the most powerful.”

The sun set. The second day ended.

X

** Meanwhile, in Heaven. **

God was worried. He bit his lip whilst deep in his thoughts, it felt like a rock was trapped in his throat and fiddled with his hands and fingers. So worried was an understatement. But he was also quite unnerved at the amount of uncertainty surrounding Heaven at the moment. The angels were having trouble repairing the damage that both Lucifer and Ambriel had caused, especially as the garrisons were abandoned by them both. It was unfortunate in losing them, even God could agree, but it was indeed unnecessary.

A large _bang_ shook him and the Heavenly host as his thoughts scattered into nothingness. He was suddenly confronted by his three archangels (the group, in which, seemed so tiny without the presence and might of Lucifer).

“Father, the Garden has been broken into,” Michael deadpanned.

“Really, Mike?” Gabe replied. “I thought the Gates have always had the appearance of having bent bars and completely destroyed by a brute force.”

“Silence,” God thundered with wrath. Children were so _irritating_ sometimes. They shut their mouths immediately, as they did not need to be told twice. “Who broke into the Garden?” He asked more calmly.

“Some say,” Gabriel started. “That he has ten heads, and three of them are lions and five are dragons. Others say he has a thousand eyes, which can all look in all directions at any given time. But all we know is, he’s called Lucifer. And he appears to have dicks for heads and balls for wings.”

“Yes, thank you for that interlude, Gabriel,” God replied, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t understand how he got into Heaven. It’s literally impossible.”

“We found Gadreel unconscious,” Raphael spoke quietly. He knew his place.

Their father’s eyes suddenly flashed to red – the archangels became startled at this sudden new development.

“We also found Cain in the Garden, burdened by the mark -”

“Enough of this,” God spoke with his deep, collected voice. “Seek out Lucifer and Ambriel. They shall regret the very day they were created.”

The archangels didn’t move. God raised an eyebrow.

“What on Earth are you waiting for?”

“Father - they took Lilith,” mumbled Michael.

“FIND HIM!” He shrieked, and they all vanished at once without a trace. The blood surged around the course of his body, the anger settling deep within him. And He knew the worst had still yet to come…

X

The third day began quite cheerfully for the two fallen archangels, with a successful heist; there was much to celebrate. They had captured one of God’s most loved beings, and a few simple tweaks to her will make her the most feared being to have ever been created… Minus the Darkness, of course.

The setting around them matched their cheerful mood; the sky was orange as the sun arose along the horizon, but everything was still cloaked in dimness. As the morning birds and other animals awoke to the first sign of light, as did Lilith. And she was confused at the first initial setting. This was mainly because she had never really experienced the darkness before – as she always had a sense of light inside her. But these flicker of shadows were unbeknownst to her. Here, wherever she was, did not even remotely resemble the Garden. They were more refined, more beautiful than anything imaginable or conceivable. But the most important thing, was that she felt more connected. Here, God felt further away. Was this some sort of sick joke? Some distressing nightmare? A test for his playthings? It was all to obscure and dizzying. Perhaps these angels _were_ indeed right in what they were saying. Maybe God doesn’t care – after all, who would banish their offspring?

Lilith subconsciously rubbed her growing abdomen at this thought. It all seemed so surreal. Besides, it wasn’t as if she wanted to stay in the Garden – sure, she loved Adam. They were literally the same in every feasible way. However, she did not want the whole of her life being obedient to him. She wanted independence. And this is what the angels were now giving her.

Contrary to the angels’ belief, she left the Garden entirely by her own free-will. She wasn’t exactly taken – to leave the Garden, force or otherwise, you must have desire to be taken away from it. After all, she despised the Garden and would much prefer to go with beings that respect her free-will; rather than being subservient forever.

Yet she had no idea what she was in for.

In order to transform Lilith into the first twisted soul, they had to first go to Hell. Hell isn’t a very pleasant place to go to – which is obvious from its impression of eternal damnation. But, it wasn’t all fire and whatever. No. It was much, much worse…

Hell is an extremely complicated thing, just like Heaven. Everyone experiences Hell in different ways. It reflects your inner fears. Perhaps, when the future Dean Winchester gets sent to Hell, he’s considered lucky. Because people don’t turn into demons by being tortured on the rack, even if your name is Alastair. It’s the torturing that transforms you. That’s what truly breaks you.

But Lilith knew her existence had gone entirely downhill when she was tied to the not-yet-infamous rack. Nevertheless, she wanted to do this. She wished to be changed for the better. Or in this case, for the worse.

Her wrists were bound to each corner, so that she was unable to move or defend herself. Her ankles were strapped in as well, just for safe measure. Lucifer held out his archangel blade in front of him, as if he was admiring the sharpness of the steel. Ambriel was stood to one side of what Lilith could make out to be a room of sorts. The walls were coated in thick charcoal, and no escape hatch deemed distinguishable in all of her surroundings. Beside the window, which had bars in front of it. The sunrise had burned away into the fiery pits that appeared to dance closer and closer to the prison that she was in. The heat was immense and overwhelming – Lilith was already sweating to her core. It felt like she was being burnt, and yet she wasn’t even physically coming into contact with anything. It was strange.  
Ambriel seemed on edge and nervous. Although she understood why her Master had to do this, she didn’t wholly agree with its brutality.

Lilith daringly watched the silver blade reflect off the light in Lucifer’s unforgiving eyes. She watched the blade edge closer and closer to her skin, as her eyes filled with fear. Lucifer made the first slice along her collarbone, where her skin ripped into two halves and retreated away from each other – as crimson red blood seeped slowly out of the wound. It trickled slowly down her body, past her breasts and reaching her stomach. She made a hissing noise as the wound stung her. Lucifer’s mouth tweaked upwards at the sound of the noise, and he realised that he had no clue as of yet to where the weak points were on a human body. This meant investigating, and experimenting.

He then probed the blade along her stomach and in one swift move, it opened. Lilith screamed as the ruby red blood flowed out of the deep incision. It was like a river. She was horrified as she watched the blood escape from her and soon – it would be drowning her.

“Curious thing, you humans,” Lucifer commented. “My Father gave you flesh and blood, with intentions to make you live. But the same things can make you die.”

“And yet,” Lilith spoke to Lucifer. “You do not know where to stick that knife of yours.”

He abruptly moved the blade to her throat and stuck it there, pressurising it hard on her – making the slightest of cuts. She made a strangled noise, frightened by the domineeringness.

“I know how to kill you,” he whispered dangerously. “But unfortunately for you, you have to turn first.”

He stabbed the knife into her shoulder, pinning her even more to the rack. She screamed once more as the silver plunged harshly into her bones, shattering the joints binding her shoulder to her arm. She struggled to keep consciousness, but one cannot sleep in Hell. Lilith vaguely wondered when she could finally die.

Lucifer chuckled evilly as he heard her thoughts.

“I won’t let you die, my sweet Lily. And that’s a promise.”

He then glanced towards the space next to the rack, as if waiting for something to materialise. And alas it did – a desk filled with a sparse variety of toys and instruments to choose from, varying from knives to saws to flails to axes. Lucifer decided upon a crowbar made of iron after long deliberation. He also took a hefty jar of salt which happened to be nearby. Ambriel, who was filled with curiosity, noticed the salt and began to ask questions (as always).

“Brother, why do you need the salt?” she asked quietly, not wishing to disturb the serenity of the silence.

“Believe it or not, but salt has the ability to make souls more pure – and it shares this trait with iron.”

“But what place does it have here?”

“Well, you’ve noticed that Lilith’s soul has begun to turn already, correct? So these factors will bring her even more pain. However, they will also make her resistant. This means that she will be the purest demon soul known to man – the purest there has ever been, and ever will be. Besides from myself, of course. It will help build her demon powers.”

“How can you be so sure this will work?” she inquired.

“I’m not.”

He applied a generous amount onto the iron and coated it completely. He then took his free hand and felt the dryness of Lilith’s clit. She whimpered softly as it reminded her of how Adam took her so forcefully. Then, without warning, Lucifer drove the crowbar into her vagina. The rough edges penetrated and embedded themselves into the depths of her canal, almost breaching her G-spot. She cried in pain as the sharp metal cut her and screamed in agony as the salt coated the wounds. The bar went deeper and deeper as it ravaged her mercilessly. Tears flooded from Lilith’s eyes, making her cheeks glisten. The same happened with her legs, only with blood.

Finally, he pulled out, leaving her insides all mangled and torn.

“Did you enjoy that?” he purred softly.  “I know I did. Ambriel, what do you think?”

“Horrifically gruesome, Master,” she replied – her face a little green. Lucifer smirked.

“What shall we do next, I wonder?” he pondered. “Any ideas, Ambriel?”

“I think you should take that abomination out of her.”

“Mhm. Very imaginative, my dear. I commend you,” his eyes sparkled at her suggestion.

“N-no! Please! Not my baby,” Lilith babbled desperately. Lucifer leered at her plead.

“My wonderful sister, you've always had the best of ideas.”

He then reached over to Ambriel and gave her a small kiss on her cheek. He proceeded to withdraw a knife, and in one swift slice, Lilith’s stomach slit open. The ruby red blood streamed out of her, just like the endless scream echoing out from her throat. The foetus dropped out of her limply, with its body almost cut in half – hanging as if it was on a loose thread.

Lucifer rose his eyebrow, as if it mimicked a look of genuine concern. He picked the flaccid doll and cradled it in his arms.

“Hmm,” he pondered. “Very interesting, I must admit. Excellent results too, if I do say so myself.” His tone was casual, one that he may adept if he was buying groceries from the store. And this is what Lilith worried about most from her tormentor

“What next?” Ambriel asked.

“I was going to ask you that,” he replied, facing her.

“No more,” Lilith murmured weakly.

“What was that? You want more?” Lucifer smirked. “I mean, there’s always more where that came from. Your soul is almost black – so why should I stop now?”

He took hold of her jaw and prised it open with little effort, and shoved the foetus into her mouth. Lilith attempted to scream and protest against it, but it was in vain as it was muffled by the bloody and rubbery foetus. Lucifer forced her to swallow it down her throat by clasping is hand around her jaw and mouth. Since she couldn’t spit it out, she felt the slimy and coppery body jam vigorously down her oesophagus. More tears spilled down her cheeks, the salty tears mingling with her many cuts made during the strenuous torture session.

When she finally swallowed the last unforgiving piece, her soul had turned pitch black – perhaps as dark as the nightmare realm.

Lucifer smiled at Ambriel sinisterly, with his teeth shining pointedly at her.

“We have a war to win.”


	4. Heaven's Gates

_If she wishes to go,_  
_I will not forgive her._  
_\- Stevie Smith, The River God._

* * *

 

The fourth day of banishment began on Earth. They had since left Hell as a trio, and hoped that their father would appear - so they could demonstrate their new creation. Unfortunately, God seemed busy – or reluctant to reveal Himself – so they would just have to travel to Heaven’s Gates themselves.

This was easier said than done, as the task set for the two fallen archangels and one demon was an arduous one. They would have to travel far and wide, searching for some kind of celestial plane on Earth and travel to Heaven that way. This was due to their obvious banishment, cutting of their wings so their travel was greatly limited.

“We need to search for the centre of all creation,” Lucifer stated as if it was the easiest thing in the world. It wasn't.

“The Garden,” Ambriel suggested. “It was easy enough to get to last time.”

“Not now, it won’t be. Gadreel is locked away. We need the epitome of creation on Earth, not Heaven. It is our only chance to get there.”

“Very well,” Ambriel resigned, and began to think of places. “What about Makkah? Many human followers will visit there in the future, for it is a holy place.”

Lucifer considered this.

“Perhaps. Come along, Lilith and Ambriel. Our journey awaits.”

They all teleported in unison, leaving no trace behind in the place in which they just left.

They arrived in Makkah, a place for Pilgrimage for years to come.

“Still don’t know why humans will worship Him,” grumbled Lilith.

“Agreed,” Lucifer replied. “I feel my grace tugging in this place. It is obviously celestial.”

"It's not exactly here, though. We need to do a little digging," Ambriel replied - inwardly sighing at the work needing to be done.

Reluctantly, they searched the Arabian desert for hours on end, with each and every spectacle of dust looking the same as the last. The floor was a myriad of hues of red, orange and brown. They blended in nicely with each other, which created a burnt orange colour. And there was the feel of the sand beneath their feet. It was so refined, that it felt like they were walking on hot flour. No doubt their father paid deep attention to detail to create such an intricate work.

"Look what's that?" Lilith asked. She pointed far in the distance, where there were huge red cliffs with orange lines which expressed layers of sediment. No wonder they were lost, due to the unidentifiable surroundings.

"Nothing," Lucifer replied. "Just mountains, I assume."

“Brother, where are we going exactly? It all feels… holy but not wholly.”

“I expect we are close by...” he replied vaguely.

This was an outright lie, despite Lucifer claiming he never lied.

They walked for hours on end. It was the dawn of the next day when they eventually stumbled across the cube shaped temple. This is what humans would come to know as the Ka’aba. But for now, it be the base of a transportation link between Heaven and the Earth.

“How do we know this will work?” Lilith asked.

“We don’t,” Ambriel replied bluntly.

Lucifer began by drawing runes in the sand beside the temple, ones which looked apparently circular in nature – others which were like arrows being pointed according to the direct east. He arranged each and individual arrow facing towards each other, forming a loop. It was about four feet wide, and the design being intricately focused on. Lucifer finished his divine work – and it glowed white. They felt a shift in the Earth’s ground as a light beam shot upwards and onward into the sky above. The power of it pulsated the atmosphere, knocking all three of them onto the floor as it collided with the royal blue up high.

After a few moments, the light stopped firing. Yet the new portal still glowed gently. Lucifer gave a patronising smirk.

“Don’t say I don’t do anything,” he smirked.

However, that smile faded as a spiral staircase began to spiral out of the ground all the way up to Heaven. Lilith scowled.

“Don’t tell me we’re climbing _that._ ”

“Haven’t you heard? Your stairway lies in the whispering wind,” Lucifer replied.

Ambriel rolled her eyes at her brother – because, well, let’s be honest. That song won’t even exist until billions of years yet. But still. It will be a good song.

“So… can we purge Heaven now?” Lilith asked.

“Well, no offence Lily, you’re an abomination. You cannot go back into Heaven,” Lucifer replied.

“Pfft. Fine then!” and in her huff, she sat down on the bottom step with her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands.

Lucifer rolled his eyes at Ambriel, as he remembered the side of humans that he loathed.

“Come along, Ambriel.”

And she followed, of course.

X

Alarms were sounding in Heaven – with Angels Haniel and Netzach being the first to hear - as they both were Protectors of the Realm. They hoped to do a better job than Ned Stark.

“Heaven’s boundaries are being breached,” spoke Haniel.

“What shall we do?”

“Tell our Father?” Haniel suggested. “He’ll know what to do with them traitors.”

So, they both flew to tell their Father of the fallen intruders.

X

“How much further, brother?” Ambriel asked painstakingly. They seemed to have stepped up miles of stairs, and there was no sight of the upcoming end.

“Not far,” he replied vaguely.

 _Yeah right,_ Ambriel thought bitterly. _Last time he said that we were stuck in the desert for days._

“Perhaps a few hours…” he added casually.

Ambriel sat down in a huff, mirroring Lilith’s movements at the bottom of the stairway.

“I need to rest.”

Lucifer rose his eyebrows as if she was begging to be hit.

“You think I give a damn, you little slut? You can fuck a Hellhound for all I care. I gave you the liberty and luxury of being by my side – and you – you disgrace that. You insult me with your human tendencies. Angels don’t need rest, you petulant whore. So, get the fuck up, or I will fucking whip you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” she mumbled. She begrudgingly rose from the step and he was glaring at her with crimson red eyes. They spent the rest of the trip onwards, in complete silence.

But before they neared to the top of the staircase, however, they were halted by the angels Haniel and Netzach.

“Halt,” they boomed loudly. “In the name of God.”

“You are not permitted here,” spoke Haniel. “Turn back now, and all intentions of fighting will be cleared.”

Lucifer smiled.

“I just want to talk to Father, that’s all,” he said, sounding hurt.

The angels snorted in unison.

“I’m afraid he does not converse with Fallen Archangels,” replied Natzach.

Lucifer folded his arms like a spoiled four-year-old not getting a bag of sweets. He raised one eyebrow.

Abruptly, a voice sounded from above them and spoke loud and clear:

“Thank you, Haniel and Natzach. I can take it from here.”

The two angels turned in surprise to see their Father standing at the top of the stairwell. At once, the angels flew away. Lucifer unfolded his arms.

“I know what you did, Lucifer,” He spoke quietly, but with presence. “I didn’t want to believe that you did, but I always knew it was doomed to happen.”

“Why didn’t you stop me then?” Lucifer growled lowly. His eyes sparked red, and it signalled how much resentment he was feeling towards God at that point.

“It wasn’t my place,” He replied simply. “I gave you many warnings, and many chances to do right. I even created Ambriel to attempt to sway you from your destined path. But alas, it was inevitable. What’s meant to be is meant to be – nothing can change that.”

“Then, why couldn’t you? You have the power to change our actions.”

“No,” He replied as calmly as He could. “I created you, I see your actions and I know the consequences. I cannot design you differently to stop your actions as every conceivable outcome will always end up here. If I changed your design, you would not be you. You would lose your free-will which other angels do not have. Your one true lesson to learn was that your actions do have consequences – ones which we have truly experienced here.”

“So, you brain wash people into doing the right thing so they do not get punished for it? Where’s the fairness in that? What about me?”

“Lucifer, you killed half the angel population. That was your will. You turned a human soul into twisted of your own abomination! Just to spite me! That was your will, so why do you blame me for your own doings?”

“I did not choose for the Mark to corrupt me, Father,” he spat in response.

God shook His head in disappointment, as though His son had failed miserably in the test laid in front of him.

“It was never the Mark, Lucifer. It’s yet another thing you fail to understand. It was about the paths you chose, and the choices you made. The Mark intensified your feelings, yes, but I expected better of you. I even expected you to resist.”

At these daunting words, the stairway descended around them. Their beings fell backwards, down the millions upon thousands of steps. Their limbs became entangled with each other as each step delivered slow, and fatal blows. Their bones became disjoined and bruised, their skin torn and frayed.

They plummeted at the bottom on the sand, where Lilith was still waiting. Her eyes grew wide in surprise and immediately became worried. She tried to transport away, but the power of the Lord was too great for her to escape.

“Fuck,” Lucifer said bluntly. Fuck was a massive understatement – perhaps the largest one of the millennia.

God came upon them, towering over his three creations as they desperately scrambled on the floor beneath.

“Lucifer my second and Ambriel my fifth; I hereby banish thee by the Sword of Michael, prompting you into exile of the Heavens and the Earth until due time. So mote it be.”

And the ground fell through as Michael anticipated their arrival at the Gates of Hell.

“Brother,” Lucifer spoke frantically. His voice was sore and eyes wet with tears.

“I am no brother of yours, abomination. With a stroke of my magnificent sword, I cast ye and your whore into this Cage for the whole of eternity – until due time.”

“Mike!” Ambriel screeched, her voice echoing into the darkest depths of Hell and her eyes narrowed in disgust.

He lunged his sword into the ground without hesitation, and it cracked wide open into the fire. The fire flicked and it enclosed around them, melting their wings into char and their skin into rubber.

The last thing they felt was falling…

Falling…

And they fell.


	5. Breaking

_These islands real_  
_more real_  
_than flesh and blood._  
_\- Grace Nichols, Price We Pay for Sun_

* * *

 

The first thing they heard were the seals locking into place, making a clicking sound as they turned around and round. They were almost like cogs in the way which they spun. They clanked tight – creating an impossible thundering sound across the Cage. They were intricately designed, and perhaps so immaculate they could not be repeated. As the final turn locked, the coldness settled in. The two angels watched the seals be covered in front of their very eyes. They had delicately designed circles, which were deadly to touch. This was shortly discovered by Lucifer who recoiled upon touch.

“It’s freezing,” chattered Ambriel as she desperately rubbed her arms with her arms, trying to get at least a tiny bit of warmth. It failed.

“You don’t think I know that?” replied Lucifer snidely. Ambriel immediately felt stupid for stating the obvious. She then diverted her attention to the blackness around them. It was vast, and seemingly un-ending. It reminded her of the Darkness – as everything seemed to be void of existence. Not even their Father’s love…

“What a way to spend eternity,” grumbled Ambriel bitterly. Lucifer nodded in agreement. Ambriel then sat against the frigid wall and began repairing the damage that her ‘Father’ inflicted unto her. She started by popping the disconnected joints back into their sockets. Lucifer was audibly cringing at such noise, yet she paid him no mind. She then went onto using her limited supply of ‘angel mojo’ left from the falls she had greatly suffered. But it lead to no avail.

She was already rocked by the cosmic separation she was now currently feeling. It was even more distant here than she ever felt on Earth. She wanted to cry – but did not. Partially because the tears would probably freeze on her cheeks, and because she was not as weak as her brother made her seem to be. He made her out to be some being made to be controlled – that she wanted to be tamed. This was so not the case.

Despite God’s claim she was made for Lucifer only, she certainly did not feel that way. She felt confused, and used. How could her Father do that to her? At her expense, none the less?  But, this came from the man who shunned her out of her _home,_ and for everyone to view her as a villain – for eons to come. Perhaps she should’ve expected this kind of behaviour from her Father. After all, what has He done for her lately?

It was Lucifer who helped her when she was unfairly kicked out, Lucifer who guided her constantly throughout her existence. Wasn’t it he who answered all the questions she had?

She was losing her mind…

“Ambriel,” Lucifer spoke softly, his blue eyes were potent, and they matched the coldness of the Cage perfectly. Almost as if God planned this precise moment…

“What?” she snapped, irritated that he broke her train of thought.

“Do you have to think so loudly, sister mine?”  The voice was cool and collected, which was strange. As Ambriel would’ve thought this would make him angry – yet his voice showed no evidence of such emotion.

“Do you have to be such a dick?” she replied viciously. She half expected him to slam her into a wall, to make her feel intense pain, or _something._

And he just smiled maliciously at her, showing her his pointy teeth.

“Is that how you think of me, sister? After your own Father abandoned you, and I took you in? When you felt so lonely, and I helped you feel whole and welcome?  Wasn’t I the one who befriended you in Heaven, even though you were rejected by so many others? And most of all, am I not the one who loves you? And yet, you take your anger out on me,” he finished sadly. He glanced at her, his eyes consuming hers.

Ambriel had agreed with everything he had said. She immediately felt guilty for her choice of words.  She stood up, trying to reason with him. Yet, he prowled forwards, hunger filling his eyes as she backed towards the wall of the Cage. She grew frightened of her brother – and she suddenly felt very trapped indeed as he cornered her, his body pressing against hers.

“You think I’m a dick?” he asked softly as she diverted her eyes to the floor.

“No,” she whispered.

“No what?”

She looked at him, scowling. He rose his eyebrow impatiently, as if he was determined to get a response out of her.

“What?” she replied harshly, deeply offended. Lucifer scoffed and struck his hand across her face. Her head was thrown downwards by the force of the strike, her hand holding her cheek. She looked deeply disturbed that Lucifer just hit her in such a way.

“I do recall that I am your Master, am I not?”

Ambriel became perplexed.

“Come now, sister, surely you haven’t forgotten all our good times in Heaven? Has banishment permanently erased your memory?” he patronised her.

“Perhaps the Fall hit me too hard, brother,” she begrudgingly replied.

“Perhaps you should be put into your place,” he hummed. Her eyes grew wide in fright.

“Like you did with Lilith?”

“Lilith was necessary,” he batted away carelessly. “But you… And me…. We have an eternity to spend forever and ever. To mould you, if you will.”

Ambriel tried to back away, but Lucifer grabbed hold of her neck tightly, bruising it.

“Brother, please – No!”

He smiled cruelly, and chained her up on a stone table which suddenly appeared out of nothingness. She tried to struggle, but she was no match to Lucifer’s strength. She was stuck to the table, for all eternity, it seemed. Unless Lucifer had decided otherwise.

So, that’s where she was. The cold stone touched her back, the bristling metal biting into her wrists and ankles. And that’s when he brought out a knife. It was short and thin; it was also deadly sharp in nature. He played the knife in the open area like he was orchestrating a musical number; it was swift, and as always, he did it with prowess. His eyes reflected the frightened ones belonging to Ambriel, and they showed no sadness or anger. Just a desire to cause pain.

And with one prompt movement, the knife carved into her delicate face. It cut deep, and the crimson blood began to seep out slowly…

And that’s where the screaming began, and it wouldn’t end for many years.

X

One of the many downsides of eternal damnation was… well, eternal damnation. But another one which came to mind was the slow passage of time. It was said a month on Earth is ten years in Hell. Well, in the cage, it went a lot slower. A month on Earth was a hundred years in the Cage. As eternity wasn’t bad enough.

So, that’s how the hundred years passed.

Torture session after torture session.

For Ambriel, at least.

For the first hundred years, it was flaying. Repeatedly. He’d always start at her face, carving at her jaw line. She didn’t know why, nor did she question why. She was beyond questioning _him_ at this point.

Even thinking about _him_ made her shiver.

The hands covering her body, stroking her in places she’d never been _touched –_

She shivered.

As if on cue, Lucifer slapped her out of her daze. She groaned painfully, her body riddled with scars that he’d bestowed to her. Even though her skin regenerated at the end of every day, it never forgot the damage he’d done to her.  She gazed up passively, much like a dog looked at its owner, but avoided his eyes out of simple submission.

And yet, she still did not call him her Master.

Perhaps, she did before, when she was more ignorant and youthful. But now, she knew that was the binding doing the talking. You did not have to address the person you’re bound to as your Master – therefore she did not.

Lucifer would be looking to change that soon, though, as he prepared her to be whipped multiple times. He ensured this by removing her wrists from being changed to the table, so she was now sat up in position. He replaced these chains with ones by her ankles, so she was permanently sitting in a curved position, with her back fully exposed. She did not attempt to struggle during this time.

“Are you ready?” he asked her. Ambriel didn’t know why he cared.

She didn’t reply, staring blankly ahead.

Lucifer inwardly shrugged, not minding the unspoken reply. He simply raised the whip high in the air, and it came clashing down through the air and it struck her back.

Immediately upon contact, Ambriel screamed at the pain rocketing through her body. It cut her skin open once more, and the blood trickled down her back. She gasped desperately, and shackled her chain to escape the pain.

Needless to say, it didn’t work.

“Ambriel,” he said mockingly. “You’ve just spent 100 years being flayed, and you cannot handle a single whip? Tut tut… Perhaps I can teach you something new.”

He smiled sinisterly behind her, once again striking her with the whip. She once again cried out in anguish.

By the end of the century, she stopped screaming all together.


	6. Wicked Schemes

_Sweep up the debris of the decaying faiths;  
__Sweep down the cobwebs of worn-out beliefs,_  
_And throw your soul wide open to the light._  
Progress, Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

* * *

 

You would think after thousands of years in the Cage, Lucifer would get bored of hurting his little sister. You would be wrong. Even though she had spent eons of suffering, it ultimately had no reasoning behind these acts. It made time blur; but after all, when you spent eternity in the Cage it didn't really matter.

At this moment of time, Ambriel was residing on the floor – which she considered to be a blessing to be free from the biting chains. She leant against the wall, hoping not to cause too much pain in her body. Thus was strategically positioned, with her legs stretched out at right angles to the ground, trying to put some weight, but not all, onto her back. This had been her position for quite some time, as her brother unchained her however many years ago. Some things were much more important than being given doses of pain. Lucifer was spending time in planning. And she had no clue how long this would happen for. In fact, she had no clue of how long they had both been in the Cage, nor how many years had since passed on Earth. But what she did know, was that the years had passed since Jesus walked the world – as well as the ones where the Prophet Muhammad had brought the Qur’an. This was due to the engravings of all the Prophets being written in her mind. Her's and every other angel in existence. And when they died... Well, new Prophet's names came to her. But this gave no further information to the passage of time on Earth, due to Prophet's living for differing amounts of time.

Unbeknownst to her, the year was 1972. On Earth, a… ‘figure’ approached St. Mary’s Convent, Ilchester, Maryland. It was on the prowl. It glanced upon the entrance, which was supposed to be welcoming. It was the opposite. It was charcoal black; the paint had started to wear away from age. Although the doors were made from thick iron; it didn’t stop this certain yellow-eyed demon. It cruised through the doors and into the holy ground. It soon found the priest within the convent. The possession was quick, and forced. The so-called priest was conducting mass this evening, with eight nuns in attendance. This quickly ended in slaughter of all the innocents present.

This caused a disturbance in the Cage, as the next thing Ambriel knew was that there was a gateway which enjoined the convent and Hell. A voice spoke.

“Father, look. I’m not exactly the praying type. I made the sacrifice, I got you a bag full of nuns. So, uh… Can you hear me? Can you whisper through the door?”

Her brother rose from the darkness and clasped onto the bars on the side of his Cage – the first time in doing so since they arrived.

“I’m here, my son,” he spoke. Ambriel didn’t know what he did exactly, but she knew it influenced Earth.

“It’s so good to hear from you, Padre,” the demon replied. “I’ve been searching for you for so long, you have no idea. The others have lost faith. Meg, Ruby, Alastair… But not me,” he whispered.

“You’ve done well,” Lucifer praised. He meant it.

“So, how do I bust you out?”

Lucifer chuckled.

“Lilith.”

The demon seemed confused.

“Lilith? Father, she’s trapped neck-deep in the Pit.”

Lucifer inclined his head to the left, as though disappointed in this statement. But he couldn’t say that he wasn’t surprised.

“It won’t be easy…” the demon continued.

“Lilith. Only Lilith can break the seals to the Cage,” Lucifer replied firmly.

“Yeah. OK. But what can I do?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes.

“You must find me a child. A very special child.”

“What do you mean? What child?”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Sam Winchester.”

The connection abruptly closed. Ambriel was in awe of what just occurred. Lucifer was still clinging onto the bars, staring thoughtfully out into the fiery abyss. She had to admit, he seemed to be beautiful with the light reflecting off his skin as he was in his thoughtful state. It was almost as the light was still drawn to the Morningstar – no matter how tarnished he was in Hell.

Eventually, he withdrew from the edge of the Cage. He smiled in her direction.

“Who’s Sam Winchester?” she found herself asking. She knew, deep down it was not her place to ask. But she was curious.

“My vessel. True vessel.”

“Oh,” she said. This made her think of her true vessel, who’d be born in 1991 Earth years. Her name was Christina Jacobs.

“So, I have 1,320 Hell years to wait for my vessel to be born. We’ve made it this far. How long can it be?”

X

Counting down to Sam Winchester’s birth was painful and tense. Lucifer was busy putting together a plan for the Apocalypse. He told Ambriel that when the Boy King (Sam) releases them from the Cage, (which he claimed would be sooner rather than later,) their plans can begin.

Coincidentally, it was nearing the 2nd of May, 1983. Lucifer’s planning was immense, and had a thirst for perfection. When asked, Lucifer simply said,

“It’s 3,120 Hell years until the Cage is opened,” he explained. “And I do not want you to mess anything up. Do you understand?”

“Yes, master,” she mumbled, looking down.

She did not question how Lucifer knew the precise years, she just assumed he knew everything in relation to his vessel. She knew, after all, that her vessel would consent to her around the time that they escaped from the Cage. This was good, as it meant it wouldn’t cause much trouble; so, she could serve Lucifer straight away when back on Earth. Lucifer would, however, have a particularly hard time gaining consent from Sam Winchester. This would be a set-back which could not be helped.

However, Lucifer was certain he would say ‘yes’ eventually. This has already been settled in fate. Ambriel only hoped in sake of their plan that this was true. She would not set-back anymore of her brother’s work. Not anymore.

 And so that's exactly what she did, and helped him where she could. She etched their plans all over the Cage, into walls and the floor. It was crystal clear. When the time came, they were to rise up into the martial world. They would search for their respected vessels, and even get them to say yes. She would first track down the Winchesters - and gain their trust. He would then find her after her making first contact them. He would then visit Sam Winchester in his dreams, and Ambriel would help guard him so he can sleep peacefully. This was necessary to the fundamental values of trust. She would relate to Sam whenever she could, often mentioning how not-unlike each other they truly are. Both cast away from Heaven, both looked up to their older brother, both wanted more to life but could never escape the clutches of family. They were more alike than first thought. 

So that's what she would do to help serve her Master.

And it was almost time. 


	7. Like a Bat out of Hell

_"Her nobles shall be no more, nor shall kings be proclaimed there;  
all her princes gone. Her castles shall be overgrown with thorns..._  
_There shall the Lilith repose, and find for herself a place to rest."_  
Isaiah, 34:12-15, the Holy Bible.

* * *

Lilith, the first of all demons. The symbol of Lucifer's fall. The bringer of the apocalypse. She died to release the archangel whom she had not seen in thousands of years. Her task was to break the final symbol. In fact, she  _was_ the final seal. She would not see her father again before she died, but she was comforted in the fact that he would once again rise. 

Neither Ambriel or Lucifer knew of this fact, and it was unlikely that they cared. But what they did care about was that they were  _free._ All thanks to Sam Winchester, the Boy king. He and his brother, Dean, were currently trapped in the coven as the portal began to open. This may be the end, for the Winchesters. 

Meanwhile in Hell, the gates to the Cage were rattling under extreme pressure. It was like an earthquake was occurring, one which was powerful enough to descend into Hell. Ambriel and Lucifer watched in anticipation of the gates unravelling. And finally they did. The cogs became unaligned, all out-of-place, no longer bearing a resemblance to God's delicate handiwork. Those tormenting doors, which were made of impenetrable Valyrian steel, were finally broken under the immense strain of the last seal being broken. This would only further illustrate the Devil’s point that even the toughest things can, and will, break. The bars holding the structure together were now dented – foregoing the first sign of collapse. Lucifer and Ambriel both awaited in anticipation. However, the younger angel was unsure of the situation, and sought her brother’s guidance.

“Brother,” Ambriel spoke. Her voice wasn’t composed as it usually was, and was shaking all over the place. Her eyes were solely on the trembling gates.

They became drowned in darkness. There was no light from the bars draining in – it was like a massive ocean was thrown over the Cage, and they were at the bottom. The shaking of the Cage gave Ambriel the impression of a badly designed aeroplane. The darkness slowly flooded away, then there were small amounts of light breaching through the door of the Cage as it began to disintegrate entirely. The light began to dance around Lucifer, making him glow amidst the black. This was to the extent that not even one droplet of light seeped outside of the likes of Satan.

He rose one finger to his sister, imploring her to stay calm. He smirked upon the crumbling gates, showing no fear to them; although they could potentially damage himself in the process. Ambriel stood feet behind him, admiring his image, and pondering the scene. The gates fell entirely, creating a wide gap. Debris appeared to fall downwards, but they knew they would fly up.

“We’re free, sister,” he finally said as the final piece of the gate fell into the tumbling abyss below. A white beam shot upwards towards the sky, like a bat out of Hell.

They took a couple of steps towards the edge, and took a deep breath. They jumped, hand in hand, and ascended towards Earth.

X

The 14th of May, 2009.   Kaliningrad Psikhushka, Russia. 

The asylum was quiet. This was most unusual, considering it was home for the worst patients, in the _world,_  who have suffered from psychosis. Just to be clear: not all psychosis is bad. If you have psychosis, you are not an inherently insane person. It all depends on how it affects you. And one particular patient in particular, with the name Christina Jacobs, was home to the asylum for quite some time now. In fact, she often forgot why she was here at all. 

Then, a doctor came into the padded room, shutting the door behind them.

“Why am I here?” Christina asked. The doctor smirked.

“You’ve forgotten?” Christina meekly nodded. "Here. Let me explain.”

It was a long and drawn out winter in Halesworth – a town quite south from Norwich. A family was settling down to dinner in a beige-brick house, with chestnut window panes surrounding square windows. It wasn’t the most traditional farm house. In fact, it wasn’t made with stone like most farm houses, but with brick. Thus, unusually modern. The house itself was dull – aside from the basement where Christina’s father cut up animals to send to the butcher. But she wasn’t allowed in there, and nor was her mother. 

Anyway, they were eating dinner peacefully, with the fire crackling a short distance away. The surroundings were all peaceful and warm. This was not the first of Christina’s happy memories, but would perhaps be the last. It felt homely, indeed it was her home, but not all those who have a home feel as it is a home. Her parents were sitting on opposite sides of the table, with her in the middle. Although there was a lot of peace and warmth, it was exceptionally quiet. There was no chatter, but instead clatter of knives and forks scrapping plates. Dinner conversation was quite usual, so it was weird not to hear the sound of their own voices. 

Outside, there were big and heavy white snowflakes hitting the ground at higher speed than ever before seen in England. The snow was piling up feet, stacking up against the other houses in the area. With the snow so deep, perhaps it was acceptable for the lights to flicker off and on multiple times. But not in this house. They knew it wasn’t due to the snow storm, despite how crappy the electrics may be.

A supernatural creature was near, which was the first sign of flickering lights. This would prompt them to get ready for when it attacked. The chairs thus proceeded to squeal as they were dragged shamelessly across the floor, the plates of food left abandoned on the table.

“Stay here,” her father commanded in a harsh voice. He fled the dining room to descend into the basement, by himself, to get the weapons. Instead of shutting the door in his hurry, it was left ajar, which was the weirdest of all actions.

The lights continued flickering for the next few seconds, but they then abruptly stopped. Christina and her mum stood, completely unsure of what to do, in the dining room. The delayed response of Christina's dad coming back up from the basement got them slightly on edge.

“I’ll go down,” Christina stated finally, after waiting for a minute or so.

“No,” her mum firmly replied.

“Mum. I’m old enough.”

With that, she withdrew a long and sharp knife from the kitchen, and gently pushed open the door and hoped to God it wouldn’t creak. It didn’t. The pitch-black cellar was daunting her as she looked down from the old wooden frame. She took a deep sigh and entered the abyss.

She gingerly took small steps downwards, desperately trying to not make them creak. After what seems like an eternity, she reached the bottom of the stairs. There was a small light being emitted from a light which hung from the top of a tool rack. Her dad was facing towards it, not moving a muscle – just limply holding a hammer.

“Dad?” Christina asked unsurely, worry present in her voice.

He sharply turned around at superhuman speed, his eyes glowing yellow.

“MU – ". She began shouting, and he shot at her, pinning her against the wall and covering her mouth before the sound could fully escape her lips.

“Now, sweetie, you really don’t want to do that,” he said in a gritty voice, licking his lips at her. Her eyes grew wider than cherry pies, showcasing her fear for the demon to see. “Are you going to be a good girl and not scream?” he asked patronisingly. She nodded meekly. He removed her hand.

“What do you want with me?” she whispered. His lips curled into a Cheshire cat smile. He pulled her head closer to his, so that her ear was practically being kissed by his mouth.

“You’re very special, _Christina,_ ” he whispered. “You mean a lot to my father and his… whore.”

She scowled over his shoulder, albeit confused at that choice of words.

“W-what do you mean?”

“I’ll spell it out for you. You’re a vessel for an angel. A very powerful angel. One who would please my father very much if they had a vessel.”

“Who?”

He smirked once more.

“Her name is Ambriel. And all you have to do is say _yes,_ and I’ll leave your mother alone.”

“Wh-what do you mean my mother? What about my dad?”

“Let’s just say it’s an insurance policy.”

He cackled as the vessel began to spontaneously combust as he exited. Christina screamed loudly as her father’s blood splattered all over her.

This moment would haunt Christina for the rest of her life, forever torturing her in her dreams; even when she looked around a room – all she saw was yellow.

She started having psychotic episodes, mainly by reliving the moment of her father’s death. But she had different ones, too. Every time she closed her eyes, she had images of a strange, vibrant, scarlet red place. From what she could make out, there were iron bars in her peripheral vision.

She felt piercing white pain trawl down her back, making her back bleed.  Her body doubled over due to the pain; putting her in a kneeling position with her arms in front of her knees. She heard a mocking laugh in her right ear, which breathed down the side of her neck. It was cold, and she felt her skin turn into arctic ice. She began to heave heavily, the hands now clasping around her arms. The iciness seeped into her blood, and the grip worsened when she began to shake unbearably.

“Are you weak, Ambriel?” the voice spoke in a penetrating manner, piercing every ounce into her body.

Her eyes opened immediately. That name. _Ambriel._

Just like the yellow-eyed demon said… They were meant for each other.

She was still shivering from the experience, rubbing her arms desperately to warm herself up – but was futile.

 _Was it all real?_ She pondered. _No, how can it be?_ She reasoned.

She subconsciously brought her hands up underneath her shirt and up her back. Her heart stopped. The skin was no longer smooth has it had been prior to the vision – well, at least she didn’t think so anyway… This subsequently lead to her bringing out her full-length mirror and removing her shirt. She turned her back and did as best as she could to turn her neck and look.

She had uniform lines which were going horizontally across her back, as if they were strategically put there. They were all about one inch thick, except for one humongous strip, where she could only assume Ambriel was hit multiple times. She cringed thinking about it.

She shook her head mentally and brought the shirt back down. She turned her body fully in the direction of the mirror, only to see her face slowly be carved off by an invisible knife.

She responded by kicking the mirror, and watched it shatter into a thousand pieces. Her face repeated a thousand times – and so did the yellow eyes.

And so, she did what was the most rational thing to do.

She flung herself to the bottom of her bed, and sobbed into her palms.

                                                                                      X                                                                                      

“999, what’s your emergency?”

“Pl-please help. I-I’m being-g attacked.”

“Ma’am, what’s happening? Where are you.”

“I-I’ve – Oh God! – I’ve been stabbed. Please help me.”

“Ma’am please stay calm, where are you?

“Be-Bensly’s Drift, Halesworth. IP19 8RS. Ple-please hur- AHHH!”

“Ma’am? Hello?”

X

It was 1:08 am when the ambulance and police arrived at Bensly’s Drift. The ambulance people wished to go in first, but the police said that they may be putting themselves in needless danger. Hence the police scouted the place before they could go in.

They started off by knocking down the front door.

“POLICE!” they shouted. No reply. They separated themselves so they checked out different rooms. First the kitchen, then the living room and dining room and the bathroom. A few found a door to the cellar and gingerly stepped down it. Others chose to go upstairs. They climbed carefully, checking the landing. All clear. They went into the other bathroom, and two other bedrooms. The last one on the right was yet to be explored.

Upon entry, it was a darkened room, the only source of light came emitting from their torches. It was a dim speckle compared to much greater means of light, such as a lamp, but it did the job nonetheless.  The first thing to be seen was a broken mirror with glass scattered along the floor. The light from their torches danced upon contact with the glass, which was curious against the grim surface of wet blood. This lead a trail to be seen, forming a slight circle around the impeding bed. The carmine blood spoke nothing but _murder._ But it wasn’t the body they found.

It was the murderer.  

She was rocking back and forth, her arms wrapped around her and her knees held to her chin. The knife was centimetres away. She was muttering strange things about “demons” and “hell”.

Concerned looks were exchanged with the fellow policemen in the room. A voice spoke out on the radio, which thankfully burst the disturbing scene before them.

“Officer Ryan, come in. We’ve found the victim. Over.”

“Officer Ryan here. We’re going to need a mental hospital that takes killers.”

The process of coaxing the girl over was difficult, as she just seemed to be in her own little world. So, it was lucky they called in some psychiatric experts, otherwise they may have had to use force – which usually makes matters worse.

Once she was in the van, Officer Ryan had the liberty of talking to the doctors.

“We think it’s best that she goes to Russia – “

“Woah. You want to send a mentally ill ENGLISH citizen to Russia?”

“Officer Ryan, respectfully, there’s no mental facility in England that’s willing to accept someone who can hardly be brought out of psychosis – let alone someone who stabbed and killed their own mother. Russia is your best bet. We’ll make sure she’ll get all the care she needs.”

He took a deep sigh. He knew there was no choice about it.

“Fine. Send her to Russia.”

The doctor nodded and spread this knowledge with his colleagues.

 _So, that’s what happened,_ Christina mused quietly – taking in this information. She was in an empty and plain room, save for a singular bed. The walls were coated in a pillow-like texture. She assumed it was so that she couldn’t hurt herself. But it wasn’t her that did the hurting.

The doctor was still stood in front of her, reminiscing a blank expression on their face. They were the one that had just told this story, one which she’d long forgotten.

“It’s time for your meds – "

“Wait, just like that? You gift me the information then take it away again?”

The doctor inclined their head.

“You won’t be able to sleep. You’ll have nightmares, hallucinations – it’s better if you forget.”

Christina knew they were right.

She positioned herself on the bed after being on the floor for however long, and gripped the metal railings. The doctor came over with a cup of drugs in one hand, and a cup of water in the other. They offered the pills first, which Christina piled into her mouth. She then downed the water, making the medicine easier to swallow.

The doctor smiled kindly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The doctor left, the door closing with a click.

 _Strange,_ Christina thought as drowsiness overcame her. _Why does the doctor know so much?_ was the final thought as her thoughts echoed into slumber.

But her sleep wasn’t as dreamless as it should be.

It was in a well-lit place, lights coming down from ceiling at all angles. It was a comforting room, with a beige carpet and cream walls. In the room, there was a double bed placed strategically between a bedside table, which was pure white, and a dresser matching the same colour. The bed sheets were a solemn black – a stark contrast to the rest of the room.

She was sitting quite comfortably on the squashy mattress, contemplating about perhaps why she was here.

And then out of the corner of her eye, she saw a woman coming towards her. She had shoulder length, liquorice black hair and silver eyes. This was her mother.

Christina scowled as she rose from the bed, looking at whom she knew to be dead.

“You’re not her,” she acknowledged immediately – anger surfacing from within her.

“You’re right,” replied her ‘mother’s’ voice, which was soothing to hear. “But I’m afraid, it was my only option.”

Christina knew deep down that they were right.

“You’re the angel, aren’t you?” Christina trembled

She was referring to the one which the yellow-eyed demon told her about all those years ago, of course.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” the angel replied lightly.

Of all the things Christina expected a being which she dreaded to meet, she did not expect to feel soothed. The angel stepped closer to her, and cupped her hand on her face, right on her cheek. They stroke it gently, reminiscent of how her mother used to all those years ago.

“I do not wish to hurt you, Christina. I’m only taking on this form because there’s no other way to do so. You offer up a solution. My True Vessel. All you have to do is say yes to consent to being possessed by me.”

Their silver eyes enjoined as one. She knew she had no choice.

“Yes.”

“Once you do this, it’s nearly impossible to go back,” the angel warned.

“Yes,” she repeated more firmly.

Blinding white light emitted from the angel, and she felt peacefulness spread across the room. She could not hear the ‘humming’ noise, as she was too occupied with feeling a tonne of energy enter her body.

It felt strange, but the feeling soon left her as the angel took the reins of her mind, body and soul.

And Christina slithered into darkness.


	8. Ambriel

_"I beheld till the thrones were cast down..._  
_His throne was like a fiery flame,_  
_and his wheels as a burning fire."_  
\- Daniel 7:9, The Holy Bible.

* * *

 

Sam and Dean Winchester were confused. They somehow had been transported onto a plane travelling over the convent in Ilchester, the astonishing bright light was still within their hindsight. They had since found a rental car and started driving away from the whole mess. It was all too shocking to be ignored.

“Seriously, Dean. I’m freaked. What put us on that plane?” Sam wondered.

“I don’t know, Sam,” Dean admitted. “But it was powerful enough to put us on that plane – away from Lucifer. Let’s just lay low, and see how Chuck’s doing and – “

There was a THUMP in the road, as if someone had been hit.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” shouted Dean, the rental car’s tires coming to a screeching stop.

“Let’s go check it,” said Sam, somewhat serenely. Dean nodded in his direction, as they both pulled out their guns to scope the outside.

They both clambered out of the rental, and their eyes met with a girl – who was no more than eighteen years old, with her long chestnut hair draped over her face. She was knelt over, her arms bent at weird angles, but had no visible scars or markings on her person. The brothers gave each other a concerned look, one which spoke ‘Where the Hell did she come from?’ and both prospectively lowered their guns.

They approached the girl slowly, and saw her stand up – appearing completely fine – as she dusted herself off. They both gave her a weird and awestruck stare.

“What?” she asked briskly. Dean proceeded to point his gun at her. “Woah, dude!” she raised her arms, knowing fully well it wouldn’t harm her.

“What are you?” Dean snarled.

“Um. Hi, I’m Ambriel. An angel of the Lord. Or-uh, used to be.” The brothers exchanged looks, with their eyebrows raised.

“What do you mean used to be?”

“It’s a long story – “

“We have time,” Sam interluded.

“That we do,” Dean agreed. “Get in.” He pointed to the back seat of the car. Ambriel shrugged as she climbed in.

“So, uh,” Ambriel said after a few minutes of silent driving. “Who are you two?” she asked.

“You don’t know who we are?” Sam asked worryingly. He almost wanted to _laugh._ What kind of angel doesn’t know _us?_

“Uh. Well that depends. Are you Sam Winchester?” He nodded. “So, then that’s Dean. I’ve never met you two before, of course. Seen glimpses of what you’ve done. You know, all the top hits. Opening the Gates of Hell, Sam doing Demon blood, most recently opening the Cage. Pretty rad, I’d say. Much more interesting than where I come from. I’d rate 10/10 on IMDB.”

“You know what IMDB is but not us two?” questioned Sam. She chuckled.

“Hey, what can I say? There’s not exactly Netflix where I come from.”

“Hey. Tell us who you are. Right now,” Dean snapped.

“Alright,” she resigned. “It’ll be a long story, I’m approximately 14 billion years old. But I’ll give you all the top highlights. So, when I was brought into creation, there were only four angels in existence: Lucifer, Michael, Gabriel and Raphael. Long story short, Lucifer wanted to rebel when he decided that humans were unconventional. I was saddened, at the time, because I did not have the same feelings or emotions as humans. So, Lucifer came to be with a predisposition, which was to go to Father and be like ‘are we not worthy?’. So, in a way, I had little choice but to follow my brother. And thus, I was corrupted, and our father casted us down to Earth. Like, thanks dad. We brought Lilith with us, out of spite or whatever, and turned her into a demon. After this, we got sent into Hell and locked up in the Cage; thanks to my dear brother Michael. Who, FYI, is a grade A dick. I was released like, twenty minutes ago, and here we are.”

“You’ve found a vessel already?” Sam questioned, dumbfounded.

Her eyelids flickered a few times.

“Yes. Don’t sound so surprised, it’s fairly easy if your name isn’t Lucifer.”

“And you’re… fallen.”

“Yes.”

“So, that means you’re not at full power?”

“What is this, twenty questions? The answer to that is yes. Or no. Depending how you look at it. I’m at full power, because this is my true vessel. Therefore, I do not need to be connected to Heaven. Comprende?”

“Where’s Lucifer now?” Dean asked. She shrugged.

“Who knows. Incorporeal, probably. He will circle his vessel soon.”

“Why doesn’t he find his true vessel?” Sam asked. Ambriel had to restrain herself from laughing.

“Angels need consent, and I suspect that Lucifer would want very much for his true vessel to consent, but it’s easier to talk to other potential vessels than his true vessel. Like I said, getting a vessel is easy – if your name isn’t Lucifer.”

They continued to drive well into the sunrise, eventually meeting at Chuck’s house. It looked completely unblemished from the outside, side for the smashed window that belonged to the living room. Sam and Dean gave each other a worried look.

They stopped the car and all of them got out of the car. They took gentle steps up the porch and into the house. Needless to say, it was a wreck. This was due to the abundant number of items strewn across the floor, some items had been smashed and others splattered with blood. This was not a good sign, especially as it looked like a badly executed skirmish.

“Woah, do all you humans live like this?” Ambriel asked, bewildered by the messy nature. Sam smirked.

“Uh, no. An archangel attacked Castiel,” Sam replied.

“Who’s that?”

“An angel.”

“Oh cool. Which archangel?”

“Raphael,” came a new voice.

Out came a man, with pecan coloured hair and sea green eyes. Ambriel scowled upon meeting him.

“Hey Chuck,” said Dean.

“Sam!” Chuck’s eyes widened as seeing him. “You’re alive! You’re okay!”

“Well, yeah…”

“Where’s Cass?” interrupted Dean. Chuck grew nervous at this question. There was an awkward silence.

“He’s dead,” he replied solemnly. “Or gone. Raphael smoked the crap out of him. W-why is she looking at me weird?”

Without knowing it, Ambriel had been scowling hard at this new human – almost like she was burning a hole in his head with her vision.

“Okay, Edward Cullen,” Dean said, bringing her into a different room to Chuck. She then turned extremely pale in the hallway and she ran out of his grasp and fled to the kitchen – and proceeded to throw up blood in the sink.

“That’s just nasty,” Dean commented.

“So, uh. She didn’t mention she was bound to Lucifer, huh?” Chuck asked. Sam and Dean exchanged glances.

“No,” replied Sam. “What the Hell?”

“Poor girl,” said Chuck, despite her throwing a total death stare at him moments earlier. “She’s throwing up blood as Lucifer circles his vessel.” Dean groaned at this comment.

Ambriel came back, shivering, and donned a ghostly-white colour.

“You alright?” Dean asked her.

“Oh yeah, I feel great,” she replied sarcastically. A faint smile spread across Chuck’s face. Dean rolled his eyes.

“For an angel that’s been locked away for all of humanity, it’s surprising you know what sarcasm is,” Sam commented.

“Please,” she replied. “I invented sarcasm.”

“Sure you did.”

“Hey, uh. Can I talk to you for a minute Chuck?” she asked.

Chuck nodded, and they both left the room and went upstairs.

“They’re acting like it’s some family melodrama,” Dean commented. Sam smiled.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I guess so.”

“Let’s hit the road. Find a motel.”

“What about Ambriel?”

“She’ll find a way. Probably.”

Meanwhile, upstairs, Chuck closed the door behind him so it was just him and the angel in the bedroom.

“You,” she softly spoke, anger underlying her words.

“Me,” he confirmed, his eyes swimming in sorrow.

“Why? Why would you cast me down into Hell if you knew I was bound to Lucifer?”

He thought carefully, measuring up his words.

“You had a choice,” he replied gently. “You didn’t have to run away with Lucifer. There was a plan, you know, where you were one of the greatest warriors of Heaven. You – you could’ve just asked me.”

“You know that’s not how it works, father,” she sighed. “You were untouchable – who am I to question you and your creation? How I’m designed?”

“You were always curious, demanding answers. Lucifer wasn’t the best – “

“Oh, you think so? I wasn’t meant to ask my favourite brother about things, even though you _knew_ when we were in the Garden, I always asked him.”

Chuck deeply sighed.

“It’s true, I knew. But I believed you could help him, and…”

“It got worse,” she finished. He nodded.

“Yes. The extent of the Mark was, quite frankly, unbelievable. I do feel bad for what happened to you both, I really do. But in the end, it was always going to happen. Even if you didn’t choose to stick with Lucifer, he probably would’ve deceived you anyway – it’s very complicated,” he explained. “Destiny has always been a bit of a bitch.”

Ambriel nodded bitterly.

“It’s not so bad – “

Ambriel threw her head back laughing.

“Oh yeah, not bad at all. I’ve only been tortured for the past millennia.”

“There was nothing I could do – “

“Sure. Right. Let me guess, blah blah transcendency, blah blah destiny.”

“I swear, I couldn’t open the Cage until the time was right. Believe me, if I did, a whole load of things would’ve gone wrong – the entire plans, ruined. In fact, the Universe probably would’ve spontaneously combusted if I helped you out! I had to wait for the natural cause. Please, Ambriel, I couldn’t intervene!”

“What about Castiel? He’s not exactly dead as you pretended downstairs, is he?”

“Castiel is always meant to help the Winchesters. He’s a small piece of the puzzle! You’re like, a full section. If I lose a piece, the puzzle is practically complete. But without you, it’s not possible. Please understand.”

“Yeah, I understand. You use me so I do what’s best for your plan, or whatever. I never had a choice. You built me this way.”

With that, she flew away. Chuck took a deep sigh. Children always were irritating.

X

“I made some hex bags,” Sam announced. “They’ll hide us from angels and even demons.”

“Which I find racist, by the way,” said Ambriel, appearing in the room.

“Okay, Mystic Meg, then how did she find us?” Dean asked.

“Relax, hopscotch – “ Dean scowled. “- It doesn’t work against me.”

“So, Lucifer could find us?” Sam asked.

“Probably,” she replied. “But seeing as he doesn’t have his vessel – yet – I think you’ll be alright.”

“Can’t you do something for us in the mean time?”

She rolled her eyes, and placed her hand on Sam’s chest and engraved enochian sigils into his ribs. She did the same for Dean.

“What in the Hell did that do?” Dean asked.

“Hides you from all angels, including me.”

“Uh. Thanks,” said Sam. “We should probably get you a cell phone, so you can find us.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. But as I assume it’s a form of communication, I’ll thank you for your consideration in advance.”

Sam took off out of the room.

“I can book you a room,” Dean suggested. “If you want.”

“That’s kind of you,” she replied. “Angels don’t sleep.”

“True. But I don’t feel comfortable you being in the same room, so…”

“I can stay outside, if you’d prefer.”

“Sure thing.”

X

Come morning, Ambriel sensed somebody, a human, outside of the Winchesters’ door. She flew directly into the room.

“You’re so firm,” the intruder said, feeling up Sam. Ambriel scowled as Sam was obviously discomforted.

“Want me to decapitate her?” Ambriel suggested.

“No, uh, it’s fine,” Sam said. The person thus took their hand off Sam, looking at her in awe.

“Who’s this?” the person asked.

“Becky, meet Ambriel. Ambriel meet Becky,” Dean said.

“Ooo! Pleasure to meet you!” Becky said enthusiastically. Ambriel glared her down.  Becky coughed. “Anyway, I’m here to tell you that Carver Edlund sent me to tell you something! Because he said he was being watched, due to angels! Nice switch up to the mythology, by the way.”

“Thanks,” replied Ambriel.

“Wait. You’re not – “

“Yes, I am.” Her mouth grew into a wide grin.

“My first angel!”

Ambriel rolled her eyes.

“And I see neither of you two are in extreme danger.”

With that, she flew off.

After Becky left, they had signed Ambriel to come back over.

“So, we’re going to look for the Michael sword,” Sam stated. She heightened her eyebrows.

“Michael’s lost his sword?” she replied. Seemed stupid, but then again Michael was stupid.

“But first, we’re waiting for Bobby to bring Baby,” said Dean.

“Baby?” she asked, puzzled.

“My car.”

As he spoke this sentence, they heard the car come to a stop outside.

“There she is!” exclaimed Dean. “Baby, have I missed you.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispered to Sam. “Why does he have an infatuation with an object?”

“Don’t ask,” he whispered back.

Bobby knocked the door, which Dean opened. As soon as he came in, Dean hugged him. As soon as Dean let go, Ambriel shot at him with superhuman speed and pinned him to the wall.

“What the Hell Ambriel!” shouted Dean.

“Sorry but uh, that’s a demon.”

“What?” Sam and Dean said in unison. Bobby’s eyes turned black.

“I will kill him you hear me!” the demon spoke.

“Uh huh,” she replied. “Sure.” She put two fingers to his head and the demon was expelled from his body. She grabbed hold of the charcoal black smoke in the air, and made it light up like a fire. It was dead, and Bobby was a shrivelled heap on the floor, unconscious.

“What just happened?” Sam said.

“I saved your asses. You’re welcome.”

“So, uh. When will he wake up?” Dean asked. Ambriel gave him a look that said ‘dude, seriously?’ She pressed on his temple, and his eyes fluttered open. He clambered up off the wall and saw Sam and Dean.

“You boys! You’re okay!”

It was at that moment that Sam threw an entire bucket of holy water on Bobby.

“Don’t trust me Sam?” Ambriel asked. Sam didn’t reply.

“Thanks for saving my ass,” Bobby replied, as soon as the brothers hugged him.

“Sure. No problem.”

“So, uh, where’s the Michael sword,” brought up Dean. Bobby shrugged.

“I brought some books over, if you want to have a look at them.” Dean groaned.

“I don’t know about you, but a castle built upon 42 dogs sounds strangely familiar.”

Sam scowled at Dean’s comment.

“You think so?”

“Sure. Let me check dad’s old wallet.” He got up and went over to a plastic wallet in his duffel bag. He sorted through the cards and pulled one out. “Aha! See, a castle built on 42 dogs.”

Sam nodded.

“Let’s go check it out.”

“Bobby, you staying here?” Dean asked.

“I’ve had enough excitement for one day, kiddo. You boys have fun.”

And with that, they exited the motel room together. As if on cue, Ambriel rushed to the bathroom and threw up heaps of blood in the toilet.

“Woah, kiddo. What’s going on?” he asked, and he helped hold back her hair so it wouldn’t get over her face.

“Oh, nothing. I just think Lucifer’s entering his vessel,” she replied through gasps and spurts.

“You can detect that?”

“Oh sure,” she coughed. “We’re kind of bound together.”

“So, will Lucifer be able to find you?”

“For sure,” she finally said, the blood stopping. “That’s why I should leave you guys before he finds me.”

Bobby nodded in acceptance.

“It’s been nice meeting you, kiddo. Thanks again for saving me.”

“Sure. Don’t sweat it.”

With that she flew off, leaving Bobby alone in the hotel room.

Subconsciously, she had arrived in Delaware. She knew that’s where Lucifer must be.

It was dark. All she could see were lights emitting from houses and outlined shapes of trees and bushes. She turned towards the house in front of her, with bricks layered like a stone effect. This was obviously disliked by the owner, with depressed grey paint coated neatly on top. All the windows were rectangular, giving Ambriel the impression it was very uniform and ordinary. The downstairs living room window was a deep brown - perhaps a mahogany style – and it created a neat horizontal line across the top third of the window. This was to the left of the white front door, which sported the first eccentric shape – an oval window. This seemed out of place from all the other shapes, which may suggest the door was new. The top of the house was shaped like a triangle, giving a whole pentagon feel.

The top windows then emitted a brilliant white light, a stark contrast to the gloominess surrounding it. This was it.

Lucifer was accepted by the vessel.

Ambriel stood, not moving an inch, waiting for her brother to come outside of the house. And sure enough, he did. 

"Ambriel," he spoke weightlessly in his words, he always did. The vessel was taller than her (well of course it was!), around six feet tall. She admired the dirty blonde hair, which was short. Much more manageable than Sam's, that's for sure. Somehow, there was something complete about the light blue eyes staring at her. They were almost the shade of blue that an angel's eyes would glow upon impeding death. Fascinating.

She gave him a slight head tilt, acknowledging that he said her name. 

"You left the Winchesters?" he asked softly. It was more of a statement than a question. She licked her lips nervously. She then gave a slight nod. "Why?" She diverted her glance away from her brother, and instead looked at the floor. 

"I've been unwell."

He rose his eyebrows.

"Oh? Which, by definition, is throwing up blood I presume?" She nodded. "So, why are you here?"

"I didn't mean to be. It just - happened."

"That's how bindings work."

"So, you won't punish me?"

Lucifer suppressed a chuckle.

"Oh I will," he said, as he came closer so that he could  _touch_ her - she hadn't been  _touched_ in so long. He brushed her cheek gently with his fingers. "You left your post. You were meant to go everywhere they went, until I came to you. And you've done the opposite; even concealing them both so I cannot find them -"

"It was to gain their trust," she replied calmly, in juxtaposition with her brother's anger. He laughed.

"I bet they don't," Lucifer conceded. "They don't even let you stay in their motel rooms, and they know that you're bound to me. I wouldn't find you trustworthy. And your failures - which I don't even understand how you can have failures, you've only been on earth for two days - need to be answered for."

She brought her eyes back to Lucifer, despite how painful it was to do so. 

"I understand, master."

He smiled, and he grabbed her wrist tightly.

The street was now empty, with not a single person noticing what had just occurred. Not even the fact that their neighbour would never be seen again.


	9. Like a Stone

_On my deathbed,_  
_I will pray to the Gods and angels_  
_Like a pagan_  
_To anyone who will take me to Heaven_  
\- Like a Stone, Audioslave.

* * *

 

Ambriel woke up from the darkness of unconsciousness. It was hazy at first, but eventually her eyes came to a singular dark and square room that was dark apart from a circle of spotlight that she was in. She was chained with metal to a wooden chair. She tugged tightly on the chains around her wrists that were on the wooden arms. She felt splinters bristle softly over her uncovered arms. Her head was hung down so that her face was touching her chest ever so slightly. Gingerly, she raised her head but it instantly fell so heavy she had to drag it past the back of the chair. Her eyes looked to the dark ceiling. A voice made a strike of electricity run through her body and her head jolted to see Lucifer standing to the side of her, walking around her like he was a type of vulture.

“Ambriel,” his voice was soft and dulcet, trickling through her like some sort of poison. She reacted to it carefully, as though she was made to follow his voice with every atom within her body and grace. “It’s been so long…” his voice carried throughout the room as though he had complete control of it washing over the walls and floorboards. She shivered softly as the waves basked themselves over her. She whimpered quietly, but Lucifer still heard her. He always knew when she made a sound, even though the sound was as quiet as the silence of a late night.

“Shh, come on Ambriel, you know better than that…”

She stopped the sound coming through her lips immediately, as she remembered from a past life. Her lips trembled, but no sound was made. She was shaking now, and his fingers touched her cheek and they were colder than liquid nitrogen. The cold spread and fought off her warmness, eventually infecting her with the coldness. No trace of heat was spared whilst the cold penetrated her through that one simple touch. His eyes looked at her rather fondly, but filled with possessive and sympathetic features at the same time. She avoided his eyes out of simple submission and with the fear that they will consume her completely.

He took his hand off her and continued to circle her, wondering where to start. This was all about a predator getting ready to eat his prey – or in this case, remembering the body that he had not seen for a couple of decades. He stopped in front of her, unsure of how he should proceed, but smiling with his faint pink lips like he was taunting her. He eventually decided that remembering who she was would be the best place to start.

He made a leather collar appear out of thin air. Ambriel started to shake even more and her eyes widened in realisation.

“Stop,” he commanded harshly, and she instantly became as still as a rock. He placed the collar around her neck and tied it so it pressed against her neck as a constant reminder that he owned her. He raised her jaw so he could look her in the eyes and in that minute she knew that she was doomed with no escape, even if she could go.

He took a long black whip from a shelf that was concealed with darkness and Ambriel felt the back of the chair just vanish entirely. She tightened up to brace herself but instead of hitting her straight away, she could hear Lucifer tut-tutting softly.

“Oh Ambriel, relax a little, won’t you? You know it hurts more if you do that…”

A shiver rippled through her body and she relaxed slightly so that she wasn’t gripping on as tightly. A small glimmer of light shone in Lucifer’s eye and he brought the whip over his head and it came clashing down onto Ambriel’s back.

Pain immediately struck her. The whip ripped her skin apart forcefully and her mouth let out a silent, uncontrolled scream as pain and numbness spread across her back as blood trickled, like water, down it. A cold burning sensation was also sparked from the singular strike, and Ambriel tried her very best to keep herself composed but she was still shaking like a leaf minutes after.

 _Crack,_ it hit her back again. The flesh was starting to tear off her back and peel and she bit her lip so that no sound surpassed them. It came down again, and again… Each one was a sharp slash that cut gently deeper into her, so that more blood dripped down her back. Her palms were bleeding where her nails clenched into her palms, her lip was bleeding as her teeth gritted into it and her back was gushing with blood like a river. Tears from her eyes joined the blood of her lips as her skin became raw and she could feel her muscles cramping severely.  Then, fifty whips later, he stopped. His hand brushed her back and immediately the cold shocked her against her irritated skin. He skimmed over the deep cuts that had broken her back skin, patting them tentatively. She was quivering as the pain jolted through her body both quickly and slowly as the blood seeped through the split skin. Involuntarily, a small growl let loose from her lips as the pain darted around her body. Lucifer’s icy-cold eyes darted into her eyes immediately; she forgot herself.

“Didn’t I tell you to not make a sound?” he asked venomously, his fingernails trailing dangerously on the skin of her neck, his fingers almost grasping it.

She made a slight whining noise as she knew what was coming.

“SILENCE!” he spat. And Ambriel’s face just _froze._ Her face entirely blank, resisting the temptation to bite the inside of her cheek. “You… incompetent sister of mine. Have you no idea how hard it is to deal with petulant little children?”

He proceeded by picking her up by the neck, his hand tightly grasping around it. She spluttered as she struggled to breathe.

“How many lashes do you think you deserve?” his voice asked, full of venom and disgust.

Her fingers clenched into fists as the nails dug into her palms, almost wishing she was free of restraint.

“Well?” he mocked her. “Do I have to decide for you? Surely you remember the last time I did that… There was well over five hundred wasn’t there?”

She trembled at the thought of re-living 500 lashes.

He stroked her neck, soothing her slightly, almost impatiently.

“A hundred,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. He raised an eyebrow.

“Come on, Ambriel. I know what you’re capable of. Don’t you think that you’re going easy on yourself?” he asked.

She whimpered silently, and he smiled sympathetically at her.

“You know the penalty of being too low, Ambriel.”

She closed her eyes. 300 lashes. Then, she’d have to decide the number.

“Y-y-yes master,” she stuttered, shaking as the chains rattled slightly.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

She obeyed immediately.

She looked into those cold blue eyes that belonged to her master. They consumed her, owning her, marking her with their gaze.

“Count,” he said, keeping their gazes locked. He rose the whip above his head and it came slamming down on her back. It hit like an electric shock plummeted around her body. The pain… was unbearable. It stung like hell as the thin material came in contact with previous cuts. She bit her lip to stop herself from screaming.

“O-o-one,” she gasped, trying to hold back her scream and tears. Lucifer looked at her still, and saw her struggling.

“Remember, if you scream I’ll have to add onto your punishment,” he said warningly.

“Yes master,” she muttered weakly.

The next whip struck and she arched her back as the pain ricocheted throughout her body. It travelled faster than lightning and it consumed her. Again, she tried everything in her power to stop the screams from pouring out.

“T-two.”

This continued until about thirty, where her response got the better of her.

The whip clashed so badly with a sensitive area, where the wound was deep and crimson red from it being so raw. It caused unbearable pain to consume her body – her soul. A sharp, high-pitched scream escaped from her lips for a lengthily amount of time.

She could see the disappointment in her master’s eyes.

“My my my… Ambriel, you had such great potential. You had to ruin it with your … unfortunate response.”

“Ma-master please! I apologise!”

He smiled as he hushed her, placing a finger on her lips – subduing her immediately. She shook under his touch, as his fingers softly traced her face.

“Let’s increase it to four hundred, hmm?”

She closed her eyes tightly as the recurring nightmare took over. She wanted to scream out in frustration, but that would make her master angry and only punish her further. Instead, she nodded and murmured, “Yes master.”

X

“Th-three h-h-hundred a-and ni-ninety nine.”

She was shaking violently, barely conscious.

“Nearly there,” said her master. He was debating about whether to continue her punishment. It’s been three days, and she was barely alive. The whip struck her with a loud smack and the blood from her back trickled still further.

“F-f-four hundred.”

There was a pool of blood surrounding the chair that evaded her so easily.

“I’m feeling generous today, Ambriel,” he spoke clearly.

“Master?” she asked weakly.

He smiled gently as his hand caressed her jaw line.

“The second part of your punishment can wait. Until then, rest.”

“T-t-thank y-y-you, master,” she replied, her speech still stammering.

She settled down with the relief of finally being able to sleep, with the distant aching probing her body. Despite this, she was asleep in a matter of seconds. Lucifer sighed as he looked over his slave. She was becoming too weak. In Hell, she could manage over a thousand lashes before she even _whimpered._ Perhaps being on Earth made her more vulnerable?

Lucifer shook his head. He was being over-dramatic. Her body was just being pushed too far. In Hell, you didn’t have to worry about a physical body and its needs. However, here, it needs looking after.

Although he couldn’t diminish the smile that had been brewing on his lips.

After this was over, she would never defy him again.

And if she did… well, then they’d have to restart the process all over again.

X

“Ambriel…” his voice shattered the silence. Her eyes opened immediately. Her back was aching with the pain that the whip caused the abuse in her muscles.

“Master,” she replied softly, still weak. Lucifer smiled.

“Sit up, pet,” he demanded gently. That gave Ambriel a jolt of electricity. He hadn’t called her that for so long…

She sat up straight away, not wishing to disappoint her master. She blatantly ignored her muscles’ protests to not move as the searing pain almost took over.

“Such a good girl for me today… Tell me, are you satisfied with your punishment thus far?” he asked smoothly.

Ambriel carefully chose her words.

“Yes, master… Although I still deserve more,” she admitted.

Lucifer nodded, and patted her on the head.

“You’re right, pet. It’s far from over. You need to choose the number of lashes you get for disobeying me.”

Her master’s voice changed, now dangerously violent.

“Two hundred?” she suggested.

Lucifer titled his head.

“For disobeying me? And giving yourself so little? I ought to punish you again, my pet. But I’m feeling merciful today. Try again.”

“Thank you, master. Three hundred?” she tried again.

Lucifer looked at her, his features impassive. It was impossible to tell if he was considering it or not.

“Three hundred and fifty,” she winced inwardly. Lucifer smiled.

“Final answer?” he asked.

“Yes, master.”

“I would’ve stuck with three hundred, if I do say so myself…”

Ambriel covered her disappointment well. What was fifty more lashes to her?

“Very well. Three hundred and fifty. You know the drill, Ambriel.”

She nodded as he suspended her from the ceiling, handcuffs around her wrists. She hid a gasp as it jolted her up suddenly, hiding her surprise. His fingers lightly traced the marks from the day before, which were barely healed – but undoubtedly on the mend. He rose the whip above his head, and it came clashing down once more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally decided to update this... I am SWAMPED in work. So I'm sorry that I haven't updated since like, August. But this is a long chapter! And chapter ten is even LONGER! So I apologise in advance for the wait (:  
> Also uh... fun fact! This was the first chapter that I ever wrote for this fanfiction, and thus has inspired the rest of the story.


	10. The End (of the beginning)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also: I should've mentioned this earlier, but the upcoming chapters tie in with Supernatural episodes. You may have noticed this already, and I would like to let you know the chapters won't be carbon copies of the episodes - due to the fact that I don't want to go back and re-watch season 5 (as much as I love it!). So, please expect changes in dialogue [and plus I bet it'd be boring to read something that you've already seen].

_"So, please forgive me_  
_While I'm trying to find_  
_Some peace of mind."_

_\- Peace of Mind, Black Sabbath._

* * *

 

The Winchester boys had been separated for a few days. Before, they combatted war and stolen his ring, but the hunting was just too much for Sam. He took up everything he had in one duffle bag, and burnt his fake IDs. He found a niche motel somewhere-other than where Dean was. He was sat on his bed, contemplating on calling Ambriel on her new phone. Eventually, he decided against it, for he wanted a normal life. At least for now. And contacting angels did not amount to ‘normal’.

He didn’t know that Castiel and Dean had regrouped and were looking to summon the archangel Raphael. If Sam knew, it would probably be the least of his problems, and even advice against it – for Castiel died on their last meeting. But for now, he was dreaming and lovely Jessica was with him. She was stroking his cheek smoothly, even tucking the hair out of his face and behind his ear. He knew that something was off, as he rarely dreamt of her anymore. Unless it was a nightmare and she was going to be burnt on the ceiling above. But he didn’t want to think of that right now, for it was soothing to feel this kind of care after so long. It was a feeling that he had forgotten, and not been reminded of until now.

Meanwhile, Ambriel was now strewn across a cold floor in an abandoned building somewhere. Her arms and legs were at awkward angles, her eyes delicately closed and mouth agape. She was breathing, Lucifer noticed, and it caused condensation to form on the floor. He tentatively looked at her as he projected himself into Sam’s dream, deep in thought and analysing what to do. Even with the bitch’s sigils, he and Sam would always share the vessel bond, and thus be able to always enter his dreams. Always.

Lucifer didn’t want to show Sam that he was Jessica just yet; for now, Sam needed comfort. It’s technically not lying by being Jess, because he never confirmed that he was. But it didn’t seem to bother Sam at the minute, just the usual hunter instinct was present. Lucifer tried to reassure Sam as best as he could, but his true vessel was stubborn; and set on the idea he had darkness inside him. Lucifer had said there was a worse darkness to have, but Sam seemed comforted in the idea that he wasn’t all good. It’s what separated him from Dean.

Dean, he acted so righteous. Everything had to be done right. There were no grey areas, no ‘good’ monsters, no second chances or redemptions. Sam was more open to the idea of a new start for a bad person, which may have been why he delved into Ruby’s arms. For they were so welcoming and comforting after his big brother went to Hell. That only deepened the darkness inside, and one that still needed to be contained. Acknowledging it seemed better than to shy away from it, it seemed. Because once you accept your faults, you can combat them. And Dean led his life in ignorance, refusing to accept the dark side of him. This only worsened in Hell, with Alastair making it practically consume his soul. Yet Dean didn’t talk about it, so Sam’s eyes could only glance over the pulsating vein in his temple that was present as he slept.

Lucifer did not know all of this, for he had drifted out of the dream before Sam began to relish in his own darkness. Lucifer felt like it would be cheating for prying into Sam’s thoughts; especially as it wasn’t consensual. He’d have access to those when he said yes.

 But for now, his icy blue eyes traced over his sister’s collapsed body. So weak… It made him almost wish to not have her or himself contained in a physical body. Almost. He sighed inwardly. He bet the Winchesters were missing her, in fact he could’ve sworn he heard Dean’s prayers for her. Felt Sam’s want to call for her. He wondered how she became so pivotal in their lives, she only knew them for about three days. But that’s how she spent her time in Heaven, making sure that no angel didn’t know her. But, he pondered, not many few cared of her. Perhaps only he, Michael and Gabriel did.

 _Of course,_ he realised suddenly, his vessel and Michael’s vessel must have expressed their feelings towards Ambriel because they were made for them. It was a purely, innate thought that they stumbled across subconsciously. It wasn’t exactly rare for vessels to share the same traits as the angels intended for them.

Ambriel moved half an inch, which was barely noticeable. Lucifer did not miss the movement, however, and swooped from his place leant against the wall to standing over Ambriel. He watched her gasp in pain, her pale white face scowling. It was a stark contrast against the pool of crimson blood under her. Lucifer’s head was inclined to the left side of his head, something that all angels tended to do. His eyes were filled with childlike curiosity, as if he did not know the connection between wrongness and pain. Her eyes remained closed, as if they had the weight equivalent of a thousand bricks piled on top of them. She was afraid to open them, and Lucifer knew this. But he was unsure whether to leave her or not. He eventually decided to hoist her in the air, and by doing this he grabbed hold of her wrists in one hand and her waist with the other. He conjured metal chains from the ceiling to bind around her fragile wrists, and dragged her up. She hung there limply, her head bowing towards the ground and her chin touching her chest. He intricately felt the softness of her face with the back of his hand, and she flinched slightly. He smiled and mocked her.

“Are you frightened?” he asked with pretend sympathy. His face was _so_ close to hers. They were almost touching, with his icy blue eyes delving over her features. Even though neither of them needed to breathe, the cold breath clouded around her, causing her eyelashes and hair to gain a snowy-type effect. She gulped as she finally opened her scared, grey eyes looking murky in the dim light.

“Yes,” she breathed softly in reply. He took his hand and then proceeded to caress her neck. She blinked hard and slowly as he felt his cold hands explore her.

“Have you learnt your lesson?” he whispered gently in her ear, his hand placed tentatively on her neck. She shivered.

“Yes, Master.”

“Are you going to not run away from the Winchesters like a good little slut?”

“Y-yes, Master.”

He gazed in her eyes, with fear drowning in the grey undertones. He smirked with the corner of his lips.

“Go,” he said simply. He turned her back on her in one swift turn and walked through the door. The chains from around her wrists fabricated in mid-air. This caused her to fall from the ceiling and onto the floor, her limbs sprawled once more. Gingerly, she rose her broken body and looked ahead at the open door. This left her confused. Her brother wished for her to return to the Winchesters. Well. Perhaps just the one.

She stood up shakenly and stumbled across the cellar that she thought would’ve been her tomb. Her arms were encased around her body, protecting her from coldness as she entered the darkened street – which was only lit by the street lamps. It must’ve been late, she reasoned, as there were little cars driving and no people walking on the pavement.

She felt her pockets for her phone, and miraculously it was still there and fully charged. She looked through her contacts. _Dean. Sam._ She then briefly remembered that Dean had been praying to her, and part of it included an angel with him. Castiel. She couldn’t return to Dean with an angel with him! Instead, she called Sam. As it rung, she briefly remembered that humans sleep. She shrugged and hoped Sam wouldn’t mind too much.

“ _Hello?”_ Sam said at the receiving end, slightly muffled. She assumed she woke him up.

“Hi.”

“ _… Any reason why you disappear for weeks, and decide to call me at 3 am?”_

“Uh. Yeah, sure. But uh. Long story.”

_“I bet.”_

“So, um. Where are you? I can explain why I’ve been gone so long – “

“ _You don’t have to explain yourself. And can it wait until morning?”_

“Please, Sam? I’m alone and I don’t know where to go.”

He half-laughed.

“ _You’re an angel. Figure something out.”_

He ended the call and the phone _beep beeped_ at her.

“Tricky to get hold of, aren’t they?” Lucifer snarled in her ear after appearing next to her.

“You’ve made that clear, Master,” she replied quietly, her gaze averted downwards.

“Good. Phone Dean.”

“He’s with Castiel – “

“So? Phone him.”

“Brother, Castiel knows who I am and what I’ve done,” she replied solemnly.

“Then you best bet that Dean is stupid enough to let you back in. And I should remind you, sister mine, that this is your fault by leaving them. Go and fix your mistake.”

He flew away, to who knows where, and Ambriel sighed as she was once more alone on the darkened road. She looked down at her phone in her hand, sighed once more, and dialled for Dean.

He answered immediately.

“ _Hello_?” he said gruffly. He’d been struggling for sleep.

“Hey,” she replied.

“ _Ambriel. You’re not dead_?”

“Why would I be dead?” she replied, perplexed.

“ _Well, forgive me, but it’s been a few weeks._ ”

“I know, I’m sorry. Look, I kind of freaked out after Becky arrived at your motel and I didn’t even know what to do.”

“ _You’ve been off since we met up with Chuck,_ ” he noted.

“Yeah. I mean. I’ve kind of not really had any contact with humans before… So, uh, I guess I’ve just been exposed to too many at once,” she pretended.

“ _Yeah. I get what you mean_ ,” he said, downing some whiskey.

“Why? What’s happened now?”

“ _One of your pals, Zachariah, decided to send me to an alternate timeline_ – “

“Wait wait! Zachariah isn’t one of my pals. He’s a douchebag.”

_“Thanks for the memo. Anyway, I need to speak to Sam pronto.”_

“I wouldn’t call him now. I just rung and he seems a little pissed off,” she admitted.

“ _Well he’s always like that. He just needs to talk to his big brother, that’s all.”_

“Uh huh. Mind telling me where you are?”

Dean gave her the address to the motel he was staying at and she immediately flew over there.

When she got there, it wasn’t a motel. It was a warehouse.

And before she knew it, she was trapped in a circle of holy fire.  She sighed. Dean and Sam glared at her as she then sat cross-legged in the circle.

“Never been trapped in holy fire,” she commented. “First time for everything.”

“I think you should explain yourself,” Dean said.

“Explain what? Why I was gone for a while? I’m sure your buddy Cass goes missing for ages and ages…”

“This isn’t about Cass. This is about you. I saw you in an alternate Universe thanks to Zachariah, the douche. And you were with _him._ ”

She smiled innocently.

“The pronoun game. Really, Dean? Who.”

“Lucifer.”

“Duh. I thought it was clear. I’m eternally bound to him. Any other questions?”

“Fine. I’ll explain it to you.”

In the alternate timeline, it was a state of apocalypse. All the streets of Kansas were utterly abandoned, with no human life to be seen. Dean had quickly found out that there were croatoans, a demonic virus which wiped out humanity. So, he tracked down ‘Camp Chiquita’ – which is where he found himself in the future and a ‘wingless’ Castiel. Ambriel understood from Dean’s explanation that there was some tension between he and his future self. This was partly due to the fact that Future!Dean killed one of his own guys in cold blood, without hesitation. But his future self offered to take him to kill the devil. Of course, Dean accepted, perhaps wishing what his destiny looked like.

It was not pleasant.

His future self told him to come with, and Dean accepted, as there was no way in Hell that he was going to be left behind. It was then in that moment that, after being told previously, Sam wasn’t dead. But in actual fact, Lucifer was wearing him to prom.

After arriving at the place where Lucifer and his demons were crawling, Future!Dean told Dean that he was going to sneak up on Lucifer whilst his friends, including Castiel, were being used as a diversion. Dean told him that this was wrong, and this was met with a punch in the face.

When Dean rose from being unconscious, he heard gunshots surrounding him. Upon realisation of where his future self was, he quickly ran around the building. The first thing that caught his attention was his future self on the ground, with Sam’s – no – Lucifer’s foot crushing his neck. The next thing he noticed was Ambriel, standing dutifully a few paces behind Lucifer – her silvery eyes already looking in Dean’s direction. They were soft, like they always were. Lucifer now directed his eyes upon Dean.

“Dean,” said Sam’s voice. But it was Lucifer through and through, everything from the tone to the pitch in his voice spelt Lucifer. “I’m guessing that Zachariah sent you to the future.”

Dean looked at his former brother in a confused manner as he flickered his eyes between him and Ambriel.

“Ambriel?” he asked, a frown poised upon his features. She smiled in recognition.

“Dean,” she confirmed – her words following her Master’s. “You look well.”

“What are you doing here?” he questioned, his voice only just covering his anger.

“Oh, you know, to kick some ass,” she joked.

“She’s with me,” Lucifer said calmly.

Dean’s eyes widened with realisation and horror.

“You bastard,” he growled. Lucifer stifled his laughter.

“I’m sorry, Dean, it must be so hard for you to see me in this form. And for your friend to be so… willing. I understand that you feel upset at this revelation, but it’s not like you never saw it coming. She’d disappear at days at a time, coming back to me. And why? Well, because I own her, Dean. In your time, in my time, _always._ But we will always end up… here. No matter what you try, or all the possible outcomes, or whichever road you take. We will always end up here.” Lucifer turned to Ambriel, who stood silently. He nodded at her softly.

“You better kill me now.”

Lucifer turned swiftly around, smiling.

“Kill you? Don’t you think that would be a little…” he looked down at Future!Dean’s dead body. “redundant?” He smiled at Dean once more as if he pitied him. “I like you Dean, I see what all the other angels see in you. I’ll see you in 5 years.”

And Dean was zapped back to the present.

“So, you see, Ambriel, sorry if I don’t really trust you right now. You vanished for a few days – and now you’re back.”

Ambriel laughed.

“You really want to know why I haven’t been here?” she asked.

“Yes,” Sam and Dean said in unison.

“Okay.” She then proceeded to take off the top that she was wearing and turned around so that they saw her back. They saw her back riddled with deep-cut whip marks where Lucifer punished her. Hardly any were healed, and the blood glistened in the light of the fire.

“I am bound you know,” she said. “You found that out when you first met me. I do not understand the big deal.”

“We think you’re spying on us, for Lucifer,” Sam said.

Ambriel scoffed.

“I’d rather be tortured for yet another millennia.”

Both Sam and Dean felt sentimental at this statement.

“You really mean that?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” she admitted.

“Even though I’m Lucifer’s vessel?” he asked again.

“Yes,” she repeated. “Please believe me,” she pleaded.

Sam and Dean exchanged looks.

“I believe you, Ambriel,” Dean said. “I really do. But you and Lucifer…”

“It’s not her fault, Dean” Sam replied.

“I know Sam. But what if Lucifer tracks her to you?”

“I assure you, Dean, if that were the case you’d both be screwed by now,” Ambriel said. “Lucifer already knows Sam won’t say yes until a few months time.”

“What do you mean?” Dean’s tone suddenly became hostile. “You mean to say Lucifer was right in the alternate world Zachariah cooked up?”

“Well, yeah. It’s his destiny. Just like yours is to not say yes to Michael.”

“So, the earth will be ruined due to the apocalypse?” asked Sam.

“I’m not sure,” Ambriel admitted. “No one knows what will happen.”

“Great. That’s just great,” Dean muttered. “What are we meant to do, sit like ducks?”

“Do what you usually do,” she suggested. “You know. Saving people, hunting things. The family business.”

“You were in the Cage since like – the dawn of time. And you know our line?” Sam scoffed in disbelief.

 “I am an angel,” she replied, crossing her arms with a smirk on her face.

“But you didn’t know who we were when you first saw us,” Dean pointed out.

“No, I knew who you were. I just didn’t know your faces.”

“Makes sense.”

“So, uh. Are you going to let me out of this holy fire?” she asked politely.

“No, suffer,” Sam said jokingly. Ambriel shrugged and clicked her fingers and the ring of fire disappeared.

“You could do that the whole time?!” Dean exclaimed.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I am an angel,” she simply stated.

“Not every angel can do that,” Sam commented.

“Indeed,” she said coolly. “But I’m not every angel.”

“How so?”

“You know, once. Me and my brother fought back to back against all the angels in heaven. They all died until my Father put an end to it. So, you know, if I can do that then I can most certainly escape from holy fire,” she said with an absurd monotonous voice.

Sam and Dean stood silently at this revelation. Dean then proceeded to rub his eyes.

“Great. Just great,” he then mumbled.

“So… Uh, where’s your friend, Castiel?” Ambriel asked, attempting to shrug off the awkwardness.

“Here,” Castiel said, flying into the warehouse. The newly-appointed Seraph’s vessel had dark brown, practically black, short hair. His blue eyes are quite the contrast to his hair, as they were a similar colour to the morning sky. They weren’t as cold as Lucifer’s, nor as intimidating – but instead kinder, and welcoming. “Sam texted me the address.”

“A little late for a Deus ex-Machina?” she joked.

“That would just be Anjel ex-Machina.”

“Touché.”

“So, Cass, how’s the search going?” Dean asked.

“What search?” Ambriel questioned.

“I’m looking for God,” Castiel replied.

Ambriel hid a smile as she thought about her confrontation with Chuck a few weeks ago. She doubted very much that her Father wanted to be found by Castiel.

“Hmph. Good luck with that.”

“You don’t know – “

“Haven’t seen Him since he cast me into the cage for eternal torment, no.”

Castiel’s blue eyes looked solemn at this prospect and nodded slightly, with his head lowered.

“My apologies. I forgot who you were.”

And he flew away without another word. She rose her eyebrows at this sentence, but shrugged nonetheless. Dean glared at her.

“What was that all about?”

“Might have something to do with being bound to Lucifer. Or perhaps the fact I rebelled against God in Heaven. Maybe both?” she pondered.

“Great,” Sam stated.

“I think we should head back to the hotel,” Dean said finally after some silence.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “You coming, Ambriel?”

A small flicker of a smile etched onto her features.

“Yeah. I think I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 23/1/18 edit!!!!: I've lost my work for chapter 11 ( :( ) due to a hard drive failure! So now I have to re-write so it may take longer to update than usual (even though I'm not on the regular).


	11. Deny Your Maker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... this wasn't worth the 7 month wait.

_Won't you come and save me?_  
_Save me._  
\- Man in the Box, Alice in Chains.

* * *

 

It was a quiet day outside the dusky motel room, well – the day had only just begun. Ambriel watched from the couch out into the real world. Her view was partially obscured by the pulled down shutter blinds, which let in little gasps of the sunrise light. She had always been mesmerised by her Father’s creation – in fact, even this very second, she felt an elation coming from inside her that told her that she was at peace.

She supposed she should be lucky to even be on this couch, as Sam and Dean had finally resigned to watch over them in this very motel room, as long as she didn’t ‘stare at them’ too long – which is exactly how Dean put it.

She inwardly sighed as she diverted her attention to the two boys in the twin beds. They were very peculiar, she thought to herself. She studied the way that the boys slept facing each other, with Sam’s great limbs hanging from out the duvet and almost off the mattress.  
She then felt a pang inside her body, the same kind of feeling that she felt at the start of the Universe. She thought back to how caring her brothers were; before the humans were created.  
They would discuss things from the density of water to the swiftness of a blowing feather.  
She missed those times. She inwardly thought to herself that she still wished she had a relationship with her brothers like Sam and Dean had with each other. However, this wasn’t possible as Michael was a dick, Raphael was perhaps worse, Lucifer was… well, Lucifer. And Gabriel was dead for all she knew.

This revelation made her feel incredibly alone, but perhaps it was an after-effect from the cosmic separation? She knew that all those that she loved had left her, all except from Lucifer. It was then, she realised, that Sam and Dean were more like her brothers than they knew. Only, she didn’t believe that Sam would enslave her or that Dean would ever act like Michael would. Michael outcast Lucifer and her at the first chance he got, but Dean… Dean learnt to ignore his father’s wishes, especially the one where John Winchester said to kill him if he can’t be saved. But he couldn’t do that, he needed to protect him and love him as much as possible.

It was then, she realised, that love dictated their actions – and they didn’t need to respond to their father’s demands like she did. And yet, she was still missing the free-will that she so desperately craved.

At that point, Dean made a snorting noise, and then a groaning noise. His eyes opened but then sharply closed as he caught the light from the window. He stretched in his bed, and sheepishly opened his eyes again – noticing that Ambriel was lost in thought.

“Kiddo, I thought we discussed the staring?” he said, itching his eyes.

“And I thought we discussed that you’d wear pyjama bottoms in bed,” she giggled.

Dean looked underneath the bed duvet.

“Touché, kiddo.”

“And we have also discussed not to call me kiddo. I’m 14 billion years old.”

“Yeah, but your vessels like 18.”

“Touché.”

He smirked, and then looked over to Sam, who was still asleep.

“Isn’t he just a little angel?”

“I doubt that he’s little or an angel.”

He then looked back over to Ambriel.

“My bad,” he winked.

He then clambered out of bed and Ambriel covered her eyes.

“No peeking!”

“Pfft. As if I wanted to. You’re not even my type.”

“Hey! I’m extremely offended, kiddo.”

“Good.”

A few seconds passed, barely breaching a minute.

“Okay, you can look now.”

Ambriel uncovered her eyes and studied Dean’s look. He was wearing a hideous dark green t-shirt, sported with a deep blue outer shirt – which he wore almost as like a cardigan. Ambriel giggled at the sight of his not very good fashion sense, and Dean raised his eye brows as if to say ‘what?’

“Hey kiddo, want some breakfast?” he smirked at her.

She frowned.

“Human food tastes like a bunch of molecules, it’s disgusting,” she affirmed.

Dean looked very offended by this comment, but then proceeded to shrug it off.

“Your loss. This town makes the best bacon with egg in the north.” He then looked over at his brother’s sleeping figure, and rolled his eyes. “Come on, Sammy. Get up.” He shook him. Sam rose his head and looked sheepishly at Dean. He then stretched out of bed and looked at Dean’s attire.

“Dude. We’re meant to be investigating a bear attack, remember?”

“But ladies love the green shirt, blue shirt combo.”

“No they don’t,” replied Ambriel in a sing-song voice. “It’s ugly. Go change.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean challenged. “What are YOU wearing?”

“Me? I can go invisible. Look.”

Her body disappeared and then reappeared after a few seconds.

“Great. That’s great.”

“Dean, seriously! Go change!” Sam whined.

“Okay, Samantha.”

After Dean had the right dress wear, and Sam had his black cup of coffee, they were ready to investigate the monstrous bear that suddenly seemed to be terrorising these people, in a small conservation area.

After half a day of Ambriel almost floating behind Sam and Dean as they interviewed the witnesses, they got back to the motel room just in time for some lunch. Sam sat down at the table with a police scanner, whilst Dean resumed his viewing of Dr. Sexy MD from the night before. Sam simply shook his head at Dean’s immaturity, still showing his surprise in his brother’s unusual interest. At the minute, Dean was involved with Dr. Sexy and his risky affair with Dr. Piccollo. His laughter from the quirky lines angered Sam.

“Dean! Keep it down, I’m trying to listen to the scanner!” Sam whined.

“Yeah, but Dr. Sexy’s just been turned down from hot elevator sex. It’s scandalous.”

Just at that moment, the police scanner started spewing out information.

“Come in units, I’m requesting back up. There’s been a possible murder at the old Paper Mill. Repeat, I’m requesting back up.”

“I think this is us Dean.”

“Okay, Ambriel drive Sam to the Mill.”

“DEAN!”

“Okay, okay. Fine.”

They all got into the Impala and Dean drove off into the direction of the old paper mill. He went as fast as possible, as he always did with his reckless driving. Ambriel readied herself for whatever was hiding behind those abandoned doors; mentally preparing to fight whatever-the-hell was in there. Sam and Dean had informed her it was a trickster, something that they had run into before. Ambriel scowled at this knowledge, as her Father had never given them knowledge of such creatures. She thought it was odd, but overlooked it and dismissed it as she assumed she wasn’t loved enough to possess the information – something which always seemed to be the case with her Father.

They arrived at the paper mill soon after these internal dwellings, and they all got out of the Impala with wooden stakes in hand, drenched in blood. They all looked at the dilapidated building, which was showing its age with rust and damp patches on the walls.

“Didn’t the police transmission request for immediate backup? Where are the cops at?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know, I don’t like this Sam. But we might as well go in, to scout.”

Sam and Ambriel nodded at this comment, and readied themselves next to the door. Dean did an illicit countdown with his fingers.

_3… 2… 1…_

BANG!

The door smashed open, and all that Ambriel saw was emptiness. It was quiet and dark, with light gaping through the blocked-up windows. It made her feel uneasy, where did Sam and Dean go?

She scoped around, and it did just seem that they had disappeared in thin air. This was unusual, as it wasn’t normal for humans to just vanish in thin air.

“Sam? Dean?” her voice spread through the warehouse. It was almost as if she was expecting, _hoping_ , for the boys to just jump out at her like it was a practical joke. This did not happen. Instead, what came to her instead was –

“Gabriel?” she asked, confused. “How are you here right now?”

He looked at her, in awe. His blue eyes just… staring at her. His mouth then grew wide with shock.

“A-A—Ambriel? How… How are you here right now?” he repeated.

“I came with Sam and Dean… Where have you put them?”

“Uh. Well! Funny story, I mean… heh. They’re currently preoccupied!”

“Gabriel – “

“Okay, they’re trapped inside a TV land.”

“What the fuck,” Ambriel deadpanned. “Why would you do that?”

“They need to accept their roles -.”

“Roles? Gabriel, if you _think_ I’m going to let Dean say yes -.”

“What about Sam?” he questioned.

I looked at him, a scowl forming on my face.

“What do you mean by that?” I replied.

“You’re owned by Lucifer, are you not, sister? You need Sam to say yes.”

Ambriel then looked towards the floor, and shuffled her feet slightly.

“If it comes to it, then Lucifer can possess me, Gabe.”

Gabriel then stared at her in disbelief.

“You’d do that? Ambriel, he’s going to torch the world!”

“I have no choice, brother. I am his. Forever.”

Gabriel nodded solemnly.

“So, you’re just going to get Sam walk into him?”

Ambriel shrugged.

“What else can I do? Rebel against Lucifer?”

“I mean –“

“Unless you want me to be tortured for even more millennia, brother, I suggest you shut up for once.”

Their polite conversation was cut off by a ring of fire suddenly forming around Gabriel, and the Winchesters coming into view.

“You were off tricking them whilst you talked to me?” Ambriel asked, a little insulted by her brother’s antics.

“Well it wasn’t exactly cakes and rainbows on our side, Ambriel,” Dean said.

“Well I am impressed! You two knuckle heads aren’t that knuckled are ya?”

“What have you done with Castiel?” Sam asked.

Ambriel scowled.

“You’re not meddling, are you Gabriel?”

“No no! Of course not, he’s fine.”

At this comment, Gabriel snapped his fingers and Castiel reappeared in the old factory. He seemed starkly puzzled.

“Gabriel?” he asked.

“Yes, we get it it’s a family reunion and all,” Sam said. “But Gabriel, we could really use your help with the apocalypse and all that’s happen-“

“I’m gonna have to stop you there, Sammy. You see, haven’t you learnt your lesson from TV world? You need to say ‘yes’ to Lucifer, and Deano needs to say ‘yes’ to Michael! That’s the only way you’ll be helped, and the only way this thing is going down. I left humanity to get away from my brothers fighting, and I definitely do not want to be here for more of it!”

“Gabe –“Ambriel started, but before she could finish her sentence he snapped his fingers and the holy fire went out; and thus he.

The four of them stood in the empty factory, alone. Each one of them lost at a loose end.

"So what now?" Sam asked.

Ambriel sighed.

"Well. Gabriel won't help, so we're pretty much alone right now."

"No back up plans or ideas?" Dean asked.

She shook her head.

"Ambriel's correct," Castiel affirmed. "Heaven want the apocalypse, and so do Hell. We're by ourselves."

And there was nothing that they could do, except wait around for their next case of madness.


End file.
